


Blackbird Has Spoken

by Anonymous



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Gen, Pre-Avengers (2012), TW: Homophobia, prevengers if you will, shameless fix-it fic, tw: anti-Semitism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>O'er Mithgarth Huginn and Muninn both<br/>Each day set forth to fly;<br/>For Huginn I fear lest he come not home,<br/>But for Muninn my care is more.</p>
  <p>– <em>Grímnismál, Poetic Edda</em><br/></p>
</blockquote>Odin's ravens are AWOL. So is Thor's brother. The Avengers have their hands full.
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
  
    "How recent was the Bifröst activity?" Stark inquired over the comm.  
  
    At the word "Bifröst," Thor tightened his grip on Mjolnir's handle. The three of them––Thor, Iron Man, and Captain America––were on their way to central Nebraska, where S.H.I.E.L.D. satellites had picked up some familiar energy readings. Thor could have flown to the site under his own power, but the Captain vetoed that idea, opting to travel via helicopter and keep the team together.  
  
    "Thirty-seven minutes ago," said Agent Coulson, his voice crackling in Thor's earpiece. "No damage reported yet, but could be whoever came through is laying low. Don't get comfy."  
  
    "Be nice of them to tell us when they're sending stuff through," said Stark. Thor couldn't read his expression from behind the Iron Man's golden mask, but he sounded annoyed.  
  
    "I apologize for the actions of my kinsmen," said Thor, putting a hand on the shiny red shoulder of the Iron Man armor.  
  
    "Don't sweat it," said Stark, and Thor thought he could hear a smile in there. He grinned in return.  
  
    Adjusting to life on Midgard had been bumpier than Thor had imagined it would be. There were new rules and social customs, "no smashing" being first and foremost among them, along with other, subtler ones. Giving notice before arriving in someone else's home, for example. This applied equally to Jane's apartment and to Midgard as a whole. Apparently, whoever or whatever had just come through the Bifröst had not heard of this rule.  
  
    "Any idea who it might be?" the Captain asked him, jarring him from his thoughts.  
  
    "Nay, my friend," Thor replied with a shake of his head. "In truth, I did not expect the bridge to be repaired so quickly."  
  
    Thor himself had returned to Midgard by a different path.  
  
    He recalled being trapped in Asgard while Jane toiled away in her own realm. Thor had waited mere months, but the uncertainty of when she would be successful in her efforts (he had never for a moment doubted that she would be successful) made the time pass as though he were trapped underwater and waiting for a breath of air. Patience had never been Thor's strong suit.  
  
    At last, Heimdall had given him the glad news of Jane's breakthrough. Thor wasted no time on second thoughts. He plunged hammer-first through the dark and swirling portal that appeared at the edge of the broken Bifröst, trusting that Jane would be on the other side.  
  
    His trust was well-placed; her beaming face, lit by the glow of the computers she used to direct and monitor her experiment, was the first thing he saw when he landed on his feet in a S.H.I.E.L.D. lab. There were other scientists present, of course, but Thor had eyes for none of them as Jane verily leapt over her desk and threw her arms over his shoulders. He dropped Mjolnir to embrace her, apologizing for the resulting crack in the floor once the two of them had finished with their enthusiastic greeting.  
  
    They'd barely begun to celebrate when the Son of Coul had stepped forward, begging audience. S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted Thor to join their legion of heroes, the Avengers Initiative. Eager for battle after his forced inactivity, Thor immediately agreed, only to find the battles of Midgard to be few and far between. Apart from one incident where the fair city of Minneapolis had been briefly overrun by mechanical men, Thor spent less time conquering mighty foes and more time getting acquainted with his new teammates.  
  
    The team was led by Captain Steve Rogers, or as Thor was instructed to call him in the field, Captain America. Like Thor, he was a veteran of many battles. But even beyond that, Thor found they had much in common. The Captain had spent seventy years in a sleep to rival Odin's, and recently awakened to face a world he did not recognize. In some ways he was nearly as unfamiliar with the ways of Midgard as Thor himself. Nevertheless, his tactical mind was sound and he had yet to steer Thor wrong on the battlefield.  
  
    Tony Stark, the Man of Iron, a scientist almost as brilliant as Thor's beloved Jane, had built himself a suit of armor nearly as powerful as the Destroyer. His speech was swift and peppered with references to concepts largely beyond Thor's ken. Asking for explanations yielded only more questions. Yet, as the weeks went by, Thor found himself able to understand and even laugh at Stark's wit. His quick and often vicious tongue reminded Thor of his fallen brother, though he tried not to reflect on the similarity. The grief was still too new.  
  
    It was fortunate, really, that unexpected visitors had arrived via Bifröst. It gave Thor something to do other than grumble and destroy sandbags with his hammer.  
  
    "Get ready to land!" said the Captain, startling Thor out of his reminiscences.  
  
    Thor slapped Mjolnir's head into his open palm. Despite their preparations, he couldn't imagine anything dangerous coming through the Bifröst. He was almost disappointed.  
  
    The helicopter dropped the team off in a post-harvest cornfield, nondescript except for the massive Bifröst knot left in the dirt.  
  
    "Well," said Stark, stepping carefully around the intricate designs. "This explains crop circles."  
  
    "Don't clog the channel," said the Captain.  
  
    "Sorry, Mom."  
  
    "Anything look out of the ordinary, Thor?" said the Captain.  
  
    Thor shook his head. "Nay, my friend."  
  
    "How come you never get on Thor's case for channel-clogging?"  
  
    "Looks like we've got four sets of tracks," said the Captain, ignoring Stark. He crouched in the soft soil to get a closer look, then lifted his head and nodded at the horizon. "Headed towards that barn."  
  
    Thor made his way over to the Captain, keeping an eye on the faded red building he'd indicated. Its wooden walls leaned in on each other, and the window near its roof had more broken panes than whole ones. If need be, Thor could probably bring the whole structure down with a single hit.  
  
    Such a need would probably be unlikely. Thor couldn't help feeling a bit wistful about it.  
  
    "Anyone you know?" the Captain asked once Thor came close enough to see. Thor's heart leapt at the sight of familiar bootprints.  
  
    "Indeed!" he said, resisting the urge to clap the Captain on the back in a comradely fashion. If any mortal could handle the impact, it would be the Captain, but having seen what his friendly blows could do to most mortals, Thor didn't want to risk it. Still, his smile was wide. "But we should catch up to them quickly. I fear they are unfamiliar with Midgardian custom."  
  


* * *

  
  
    "Just a bit further," said Fandral as he edged one foot forward along the beam in the barn's roof. Heights weren't his specialty, but his comrades had judged him the most agile among them, and he'd been eager to volunteer for the honor of rescuing a maiden in distress. The maiden in question, an irritated raven, squawked at him from the far end of the beam.  
  
    "No need to be afraid!" Fandral told it with a winning smile, projecting confidence he didn't quite feel.  
  
    In retrospect, he probably should have taken the squawk as a warning. The raven puffed up the feathers on its throat and called again before launching itself into the air and diving at him.  
  
    Fandral threw his arms up in front of his face to block the assault and stumbled backwards. For one glorious moment, it seemed as though he might maintain his balance, but an ominous crack from the beam heralded its imminent collapse.  
  
    "Get down!" Sif shouted up at him, and Fandral jumped, aiming for a pile of hay on the barn floor about fifteen feet below. He landed with a soft thud and rolled to minimize his impact. The beam creaked again and a few splinters fell to the floor, but the structure remained intact. The raven resettled itself on the beam, this time on the opposite side of the barn, and casually preened.  
  
    "All right there, Fandral?" said Volstagg, pulling him upright with one hand. Fandral nodded and craned his neck upward to address his quarry.  
  
    "While we are relieved–" Fandral gasped, "–at having found you so quickly, I can't help but notice your unwillingness to aid us in your retrieval." He crossed his arms and glared.  
  
    "Perhaps she is afraid," said Volstagg. "We've not come to harm you!" he called up at the bird. "We wish only to see you safely home!"  
  
    "She's not coming down," said Sif. She had sheathed her weapons and was in the midst of a massive pile of abandoned farm equipment, pulling pieces out and tossing them aside. "Do you see anything we could use for a net?"  
  
    "Hello, Thor," said Hogun.  
  
    The other three turned their attention from their respective tasks to see their prince framed in the barn's dangerously-listing doorway. Lit from behind, he glowed as brightly as the golden halls of Asgard. His amused grin shone brighter still.  
  
    "Well met, my friends!" said Thor, stepping in to the barn with his arms held out wide. Sif dropped the pitchfork head she'd been considering and ran forward with Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun to embrace Thor.  
  
    "Do I get a hug, too?" said Stark as he entered the barn and surveyed the tender scene before him. The Captain gave him a stern look before turning to Thor.  
  
    "Who're your friends?" he said with a smile.  
  
    "Captain!" said Thor. "This is Volstagg the Valiant, Fandral the Dashing, Hogun the Grim, and the Lady Sif."  
  
    Each of the warriors bowed in turn. The Captain smiled and and leaned in to shake hands, quickly turning the gesture into a clasping of forearms when it became apparent that was what Thor's guests were used to.  
  
    "Charmed," said Stark, who hadn't moved from his position by the doorway.  
  
    "And these––" Thor said,  "––are Captain America and the Iron Man, fellow Avengers and heroes of this realm."  
  
    "Pleasure to meet you," said the Captain. "What brings you to Earth?"  
  
    Hogun pointed upwards at the raven, who cawed and went back to rearranging its feathers. Thor followed the motion and frowned, puzzled, before looking to the others for an explanation.  
  
    "The Allfather sent us on a quest to retrieve Muninn," said Volstagg.  
  
    "Sounds good," said Stark. "So what's a Muninn?"  
  
    "One of my father's ravens," said Thor. "Muninn and Huginn. Together, they soar over the Nine Realms and return to him with news and counsel. Though why Muninn should require retrieval is a mystery to me."  
  
    "Apparently, she is reluctant to return on her own," said Fandral, waving at the beam where the raven perched. He winced slightly with the motion; his fall had not left him entirely without bruises. "And so we are doing our noble best to retrieve her, ungrateful as she may be!"  
  
    These last words were spoken loudly and in a decidedly more ravenward direction. The bird responded with a disdainful caw.  
  
    "...Right," said the Captain, clearing his throat. "So what's your plan?"  
  
    "I don't suppose you've brought a net?" said Fandral.  
  
    The Midgardians exchanged a look, or rather, the Captain gave Stark a questioning glance that Thor assumed Stark was returning under his impassive golden mask.  
  
    "Sorry," said the Captain.  
  
    Volstagg sighed heavily, and the group looked up at the raven while they contemplated a new strategy. Stark was the first to speak up.  
  
    "I thought you were looking for a raven," he said.  
  
    "We are," said Fandral. "Why do you ask?"  
  
    "'Cause according to JARVIS, that is a _Corvus brachyrhynchos_ ," said Stark. "Or, in plain English, the American Crow."  
  
    The Avengers and the Aesir alike turned as one to regard the "raven" with new eyes.  
  
    "You know, I did think she looked somewhat smaller from when we'd seen her last," said Volstagg.  
  
    "Then why didn't you _say_ something?" said Fandral. Sif sighed with impatience.  
  
    "We have lost enough time chasing after the wrong bird," she said. "It would be wise to waste less time arguing over it." She turned to Thor. "Would you and your allies be willing to aid us in our search?"  
  
    Thor's first instinct was to agree wholeheartedly to joining their cause, but he looked to his captain for the answer.  
  
    "I think we can work something out," said the Captain.  
  


* * *

  
  
    As a general rule, Aesir tended to look out of place on Midgard. The sleek black and silver motif of the S.H.I.E.L.D. conference room aboard the Helicarrier clashed especially harshly with the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. Not that they seemed to notice. While they initially had some trouble with the wheeled chairs that surrounded the table, they were adjusting quickly to the situation at hand. Thor couldn't help being a little bit proud of them.  
  
    "From the beginning," said Coulson, seated at the head of the conference table. "Why are you here?"  
  
    "Odin sent us to retrieve his raven, Muninn," said Sif.  
  
    "He sends his four finest warriors to look for a lost pet?" said Coulson, raising an eyebrow.  
  
    "Muninn is no mere pet!" said Volstagg, aghast.  
  
    "What is she, then," said Coulson, looking to Thor.    
  
    Thor frowned in concentration as he chose his words. It was difficult to explain a concept so innate to his understanding of the realms in a way that mortals could comprehend, particularly when he knew the son of Coul would not be satisfied with the simplest answer.  
  
    "Muninn and her brother, Huginn, are my father's most trusted counselors," he began. "Every morning, he bids them fly over the realms and gather information; every evening, they return and tell him all they have learned."  
  
    "How," said Coulson.  
  
    "Pardon?" said Thor, his momentum lost.  
  
    "How do they tell him," said Coulson. "Sign language? Interpretive dance?"  
  
    Thor raised his eyebrows. "They tell him in the same manner I speak with you now."  
  
    "Talking ravens?" said Coulson, and for the first time since the debriefing began, he looked interested. He jotted down a few notes on his tablet.  
  
    "Is that so unusual?" said Fandral.  
  
    "On Earth, yes," said Coulson, turning back to Thor. "So, Odin is missing his talking raven. Now we're getting somewhere."  
  
    "Indeed," said Thor absently, still digesting the idea that there was a world where ravens did not speak.  
  
    "I was under the impression Heimdall could see everything that happens in all the Nine Realms," said Coulson, running a finger down the screen of his tablet to scroll through his notes. "Doesn't that make the ravens a little superfluous?"  
  
    "Heimdall sees all, it's true," said Volstagg with a quick, nervous glance at the ceiling. "But he cannot investigate or interfere with those he observes. Heimdall may see a man strike down another, but only Huginn or Muninn could ask him afterwards why it was done."  
  
    That, and there were some persons in the Nine Realms that Heimdall could not see. Loki, for example, though the ravens had not been in time to see his plan and save him from destruction. Thor banished his dark thoughts with gritted teeth and a deep breath and returned to the conversation.  
  
    "How long has Muninn been missing?" said Coulson.  
  
    "Three days," said Sif, sitting up straighter in her seat as she gave her report. "The Allfather waited faithfully for her return, but when she did not appear, he called us before him and sent us on this quest."  
  
    "Any idea why she'd decide not to come back?"  
  
    All the Aesir shook their heads.  
  
    Coulson sighed. "And you picked Kansas as your drop-off point because...?"  
  
    "That was where Heimdall had spied her last," said Volstagg. "He gazed upon her just before we left."  
  
    "Any other clues to where she might have gone?"  
  
    "No," said Sif.  
  
    "So you're going to comb the earth for her based on the clue of 'Kansas,' which may no longer even apply?" Coulson raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't sound like much of a plan to me."  
  
    Sif bristled.  
  
    "Which is why we came to you for help," said Fandral quickly, sparing a nervous glance in Sif's direction. "I'm sure the Allfather will be most grateful to anyone who assists in the return of his raven."  
  
    "Right," said Coulson. Thor couldn't quite tell from his tone whether or not he was convinced. "Does Muninn have any distinguishing features apart from the power of speech?"  
  
    "She's about yea high?" said Volstagg, holding his hand a little less than a foot off of the top of the table. "Black all over, somewhat... heavier than most other birds."  
  
    "Anything else?" said Coulson, looking less and less impressed as the debriefing went on.  
  
    Fandral opened his mouth to answer, hesitated, then turned to the other Aesir. Sif and Volstagg looked uncertain; Hogun remained impassive.  
  
    "She tends to linger around fields of battle," said Thor.  
  
    "We'll search reports from every major conflict for mentions of a fat, talking raven," said Coulson, standing up from the conference table. "As for you four, welcome to Earth, enjoy your stay, try not to break anything. Thor, you're responsible for babysitting."  
  
    With that, he exited the conference room, leaving the Asgardians behind. A bewildered silence descended upon them as they exchanged confused glances.  
  
    "Do I mistake his meaning," said Fandral at last, "or have we just been unfavorably compared to infants?"  
  
    Thor was in the midst of explaining the subtleties of Midgardian speech when flashing lights and bellowing alarms cut him off. Sif and the Warrior's Three were on their feet in an instant, weapons readied, looking to Thor to dictate their next move. Before he could give an order, the son of Coul reappeared in the doorway.  
  
    "Change of plans," said Coulson. "Thor, you're up. Bring your friends."


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce wandered the streets of Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets, feeling the holes in the lining. He kept his shoulders hunched against the wind that snaked between buildings and down his collar. His ears and nose burned with cold, his throat raw from breathing frosty air. Distantly, he registered it as discomfort, but overall he was glad for it. The Other Guy didn't like the cold. It was hard to maintain a rage when the environment demanded conservation of energy.

Besides, compared to the rest of Siberia, it was downright toasty.

Surrounded by volcanoes and with a population of over a hundred thousand, Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky was the kind of place Bruce would rather avoid. Still, a man could only survive on the Siberian taiga for so long without having to resupply. So through the city he walked, head down both figuratively and literally, speaking little and in halting, heavily-American-accented Russian.

In the market, Bruce saw a flash of red out of corner of his eye. He turned his head, enough so he no longer had to rely on peripheral vision, and discovered the source of the sudden splash of color; a short woman in a black wool coat, with red hair and matching gloves, examining the wares before her with a disinterested gaze. Instinct told Bruce to keep moving, "do not engage," but curiosity took hold and he turned to look at her head on.

She looked back.

Normally, Bruce went out of his way to avoid other expats. Though he hadn't been recognized yet in this particular area, there had been a few close calls in the past. Mostly from American tourists who at first looked thrilled to see another someone they thought they knew, then slowly developed a twisted-mouth look of confusion as they wondered why he looked so familiar. Was he a movie star? A television personality? Some distant cousin?

This woman was not confused. Her expression was blank, bordering on content. She knew him, and more importantly, she knew where she knew him from.

Bruce looked away from her, up to a sign over a shop that he pretended to read, then casually turned down an alley. Four steps in, he sped up to a brisk walk. Not a run. Running might attract attention, and physical exertion on top of fear tended to wake up the Other Guy, plus the icy ground promised a hard fall that would not be conducive to escape.

About halfway through the alley, Bruce glanced back over his shoulder. The woman had disappeared, or wasn't following him anymore, or hadn't been following him in the first place. At any rate, the alley entrance was empty. Bruce let out a sigh of relief and looked to his front again, just in time to see the woman backflip down from the fire escape and land in front of him.

It was a good thing Bruce hadn't been running, because there was no way he would have stopped in time to keep from crashing into her. As it was, he barely skidded to a halt without bowling over. Bruce stood, frozen in place, gradually getting his pulse, breathing, and trembling limbs under control.

"Sorry," said the woman in perfect American newscaster English. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"Don't worry about it," he finally managed to respond.

"How's Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky treating you, Dr. Banner?" she said, and her pronunciation of the Russian name was as flawless as her English.

Bruce jerked his head up to stare at her. Close up, she wasn't just another expat, though Bruce had already suspected as much. She held herself differently, balanced, artificially relaxed yet ready to move in any direction at a moment's notice. Her face remained blank except for a slight upward quirk to the corner of her mouth. He amused her, or at least that's what she wanted him to think. She kept her hands in her coat pockets and cocked her head to one side as the silent seconds passed.

"It's okay," said Bruce, glancing from side to side. The woman had positioned herself between him and the fire escape, leaning casually against it in a way that also meant she could push herself off of it and launch her heels into his face. Apart from that, Bruce's options for escape were the ends of the alley, one behind and one ahead, and the one ahead would be blocked as soon as she decided to stretch out her leg and trip him up.

"So, what, you're military?" said Bruce, seriously considering turning around and making another run for it. "Or INTERPOL?"

His intentions must have shown in his stance, some movement of his shoulders telegraphing it, maybe, because the woman's face softened, her expression becoming warm and soothing. The kind of look one might give a lost child seconds away from throwing a temper tantrum of disastrous proportions.

"Maybe we should continue this conversation someplace more private," she said, in a tone that, while gentle, indicated there was no "maybe" about it.

"You don't want to push me," said Bruce, tamping down the primal fear in the back of his mind even as he said it.

"And you don't want to hurt anyone," she said. "You've been living alone on the Siberian taiga for the last eleven months, as far away from civilization as possible. You don't enter an area as heavily populated as this until your food supplies are at a dangerous low, and while in populated areas, you go out of your way to lend a hand to the locals. You're not going to have an incident here if you can help it."

Bruce's intended retort caught in his throat.

"You've been following me for a while, then," he said at last.

She gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Pretty much since you left the States. Nobody's here to kidnap you or take you anywhere you don't want to go, Dr. Banner. We just want to talk."

"Just talk," repeated Bruce.

The woman smiled and nodded. "That's right."

The whole situation reeked of "too good to be true," but Bruce couldn't quite ignore the hopeful flutter in his chest. It'd been so long since he'd talked to anyone who knew what he was capable of and didn't look at him with fear. Though, honestly, a little fear would be healthy. A lot, even. Her calm, as comforting as Bruce found it, was ultimately suspicious.

Still, like she said, he didn't want to make a scene.

"Okay," Bruce said, unable to meet her eyes as he did so.

She led him out of the alley, down a few more side streets to where an unmarked black car was parked. Not a tank, or an armored truck, just a plain ol' car. The woman held the passenger side door open for him. Bruce hesitated for a second, then got in. He debated with himself on whether or not to buckle the seatbelt; it felt less like a safety precaution and more like a restraint preventing his escape. Ultimately he decided against it as the woman got behind the wheel and made no moves towards buckling her own.

As they drove through the city, Bruce wondered if she was taking him somewhere to assassinate him without witnesses. He considered telling her it wouldn't work, or at least encouraging her to drive farther away from the city so when the Other Guy came out there wouldn't be such a mess.

About fifteen minutes into the drive, she broke her silence.

"My name is Natasha Romanoff," she said, her eyes locked on the street ahead of her. "I'm an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.––Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. We've got an item of interest giving us erratic gamma radiation readings. You're the foremost expert in that field."

"Until the accident," said Bruce.

"Unless the accident somehow irradiated your brain to the point where you forgot everything you ever learned, you're still the foremost expert in that field," said Agent Romanoff. "We'd like you to come in and put that knowledge to good use for the American public."

Bruce took a moment to process what she'd told him.

"So you want Dr. Banner," he said. "And not... the Other Guy."

"Exactly," said Agent Romanoff, looking away from the road for a split second to smile at him. It didn't quite reach her eyes.

Bruce took another moment. In that moment, a plane flew overhead.

"Where are we going?" said Bruce.

"New Mexico," said Agent Romanoff.

"By car?" Bruce said, a note of either hope or panic leaking into his voice.

"We were thinking more along the lines of 'private plane,'" said Agent Romanoff.

"You want to put me in a small, vacuum-sealed metal tube thousands of feet in the air over the world's largest ocean for at least five hours," said Bruce.

"We usually just call it a 'flight.'" This time, Agent Romanoff's smile looked near-genuine.

Bruce glanced up at the pale gray sky and pictured a jet plane falling down, torn into two flaming pieces by a monster in the passenger cabin. Could be worse, he supposed. The plane bits could come down over a city rather than the taiga or the ocean. Or something might set him off in the airport, before they even got off the ground.

"Dr. Banner?" Agent Romanoff said gently. Bruce sighed.

"This isn't going to work out," he said.

"We could really use your help––"

"Find someone else. Pull over. Now."

He upped the volume on the last word, keeping a careful eye on Agent Romanoff's face. She didn't flinch, exactly, but her forehead twitched just a little before she got her expression back under control. Wordlessly, she pulled the car over.

Bruce had his hand already on the door handle, pulling at it, both surprised and relieved to discover it had never been locked. He threw the door open, almost hit a little old babushka, apologized hurriedly in his terrible Russian, and half-fell out of the car.

"If you change your mind––"

Bruce spun on the icy sidewalk, bracing his hands on the roof of the car to keep from falling down. Agent Romanoff, unfazed by his less-than-graceful exit, held out a white business card between her middle and index fingers. Bruce took it, mumbled an apology and closed the car door with a gentle click.

He stumbled away a few steps down the street, then he turned over his shoulder. Agent Romanoff remained parked. He faced ahead again, a few more steps, keeping his mind on getting out of town alive, getting back to the taiga.

It was the responsible thing to do. A monster like him had to stay away from people, even if that left him with only the growl in the back of his head to talk to. He had that, plus the memories of talking with Agent Romanoff to pore over for the next few months. Her friendliness was undoubtedly an act, but it had been nice to be treated like a normal guy for a while. Just a nerd with a doctorate in gamma radiation. That would be enough to tide him over... until...

Until what? The odds of this happening again were too low to bother calculating. The next time a government came looking for him, it would probably be with guns. If he walked away now, he was walking away from civilization forever. He might as well freeze to death on the taiga. Heck, maybe that would work. He hadn't tried it yet.

Bruce's steps came to a halt.

He couldn't go on a plane. He couldn't be anywhere near people. It wasn't safe, it was stupid and selfish and foolhardy and––

He spun around, skidding again, and jogged back to Agent Romanoff's car, which still hadn't moved from where it was parked. He knocked on the window until Agent Romanoff leaned over and popped the door open.

"Where did you say we were going?" he asked.

* * *

S.H.I.E.L.D. insisted on the airplane, no matter how many times Bruce told them it was a terrible idea. He figured they were using the twelve-hour flight as a test, both to prove their trust in him and to determine whether or not their trust was well-placed. Bruce passed the time by reading over the briefing Agent Romanoff gave him, which detailed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s current work on a multi-dimensional "cube" that had previously been used as a stable source of energy to open small wormholes, but had recently started emitting erratic amounts of gamma radiation.

When they arrived at the New Mexico base, Agent Romanoff led him to his new quarters, by all appearances a generic S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue dorm room. It consisted of a single white-walled room with a cot, a small desk, a particleboard bookshelf and set of drawers, and a door leading to a bathroom barely large enough to turn around in. Bruce couldn't help noticing how his quarters were at least a twenty-minute hike from the rest of the base. S.H.I.E.L.D. probably considered it a minimum safe distance. Bruce mostly found it lonely.

The next day, Agent Romanoff gave him a tour of the facilities, or as much of it as he had security clearance to visit. The base itself was built on the ruins of a small town called Puente Antiguo. Exactly what had happened to Puente Antiguo was classified.

About the only thing that wasn't classified, for Bruce at least, was the lab S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted him to work in. It was essentially a warehouse, with thick cement-brick walls, no windows; an open floor divided up by computer towers and the occasional desk; and a high ceiling with metal rafters bared. Balanced on one of these rafters was a small, sandy-haired man sitting with his back against the wall and a compound bow in his lap.

"That would be Agent Barton," said Agent Romanoff, nodding up at the man in the rafters. "He's here to help me keep an eye on things."

Agent Barton gave her and Bruce a non-regulation salute in return.

In the middle of the floor stood a vertical structure, a metal circle about twelve feet in diameter with massive cables running from its base to the computer towers surrounding it. In the precise center of the circle, balanced precariously between bars and wires, was a cube about the size of Bruce's fist. It glowed with unnatural light, its six iridescent surfaces shifting constantly like oil over water. This, undoubtedly, was the tesseract. Bruce approached it cautiously, and could hear a faint humming sound, though whether from the cube itself or the surrounding equipment he couldn't be sure.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" said a familiar voice, and Bruce turned to see a middle-aged man with a slight paunch and a bounce in his step striding over.

"Dr. Banner," said Agent Romanoff, "may I introduce you to Dr. Erik Selvig."

Privately, Bruce had been dreading this moment. Since arriving on base he'd gotten used to holding out his hand for a handshake only to have it either ignored or begrudgingly accepted with a flinch or a fearful flicker in the eyes. The reaction was bad enough from strangers; he wasn't sure if he was ready to receive it from a former colleague.

He and Erik had never been particularly close; they'd met at university when Bruce was a doctoral candidate and Erik was already a professor in completely different department. But astrophysics and gamma radiation intersected often enough that they'd met a few times, and Bruce had grown somewhat fond of what he'd seen of the other scientist. He liked to think he'd made a good impression on Erik as well. Not that that mattered now.

Erik stood in front of him with a smile, nodding along politely with Agent Romanoff's introduction. Then, just as Bruce was about to stick out his hand and get it over with, Erik's hand got there first, his smile becoming a grin.

"Welcome back, Bruce!" he said, and Bruce thought for sure he'd hit his head on something on the way into the lab. Or perhaps Erik didn't know...?

"Sorry to hear about your accident," said Erik. "But it's good to see you again!"

Or maybe he did. Bruce nearly laughed with relief as he shook Erik's hand.

"And this is Dr. Jane Foster," Erik continued, sweeping his arm to indicate a dark haired young woman hunched over one of the desks across the lab, typing at a furious pace, transcribing data from notebook to computer. She hadn't so much as glanced at Bruce since he'd walked in.

"Hi," she said around the pen between her teeth, still not looking up.

"Jane?" said Erik, stepping towards her and casually clapping one hand on Bruce's shoulder. "This is Bruce. Remember? Culver University? Gamma radiation? Hasn't been heard from in, what, six years?"

"Just a second," said Jane. "I'm in the middle of..."

Erik and Bruce waited patiently for her to explain what she was in the middle of, but she kept typing, apparently having forgotten she'd been speaking to anyone at all. At last, she looked up, taking the pen from her mouth and tucking it into the elastic strap of her ponytail.

"Bruce, right?" she said with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that."

"No, no, I completely understand," said Bruce, and he did, really. It'd been a long time since he'd gotten so caught up in research that he could forget the world around him. Even longer since he'd been in an environment where he could see it happening to a fellow researcher. Having social conventions ignored in favor of scientific advancement was almost as comforting as having them offered in the first place. Bruce grinned back at her.

By Wednesday, Bruce's life had fallen into something of a routine. Wake up at sunrise, shower, dress, meditate, breakfast, meet Agent Romanoff in the hallway outside his quarters and proceed to the lab. Usually he and Romanoff arrived before the other researchers, but never before Agent Barton. Bruce suspected Barton's position on the lab's metal rafters was a permanent one. Officially, the agents shadowed him for his protection, but Bruce knew, and was pretty sure everyone else knew as well, that it was for the protection of the people around him. As though two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents could do anything against the Other Guy.

Jane had left the night before, catching a red-eye flight to attend a conference in Pasadena and give a talk on the Foster Theory, which meant, apart from the agents, it would be just Bruce and Erik in the lab today.

So Bruce was somewhat surprised when he arrived with Agent Romanoff to find Erik engaged in animated conversation with a tall, dark-haired young man he'd never seen before.

"Bruce!" said Erik when he noticed the two in the doorway. "Come meet Dr. Gedreynir!"

"Call me Leik," Dr. Gedreynir said with a friendly, somewhat bashful smile. Bruce struggled to smile naturally in return.

"Leik," said Erik, "this is Dr. Bruce Banner, our resident expert in gamma radiation."

Dr. Gedreynir's handshake was firm and companionable, more like an agent than a researcher.

"So," said Bruce, inwardly flailing around for an appropriate topic of conversation and settling on work as a safe bet. "What brings you in on this project?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. agents," said Dr. Gedreynir. He kept up his poker face for all of two seconds before cracking up. "I'm sorry, that was a dreadful joke, wasn't it? But it's true, they spoke with me yesterday, and one thing led to another and a quick plane ride from Stockholm to Albuquerque later, here I am!"

"He's written the most extraordinary paper," Erik said. "Go on, Leik, tell him about it."

Dr. Gedreynir smiled shyly and briefly glanced down in response to the compliment. "It's all very hypothetical, of course. I mean, I've designed all the experiments but I'd never dreamed of having the means to perform them within my lifetime. To see the tesseract with my own eyes, to have the opportunity to work with it, it's simply..."

He waved his hands helplessly in the air as he searched for a word that could describe his feelings. Bruce could relate, and held back a grin as he nodded for Dr. Gedreynir to continue.

"Yes, well," said Dr. Gedreynir. "My hypothesis is that any object that exists extra-dimensionally, such as the tesseract, has the potential for consciousness."

Bruce raised his eyebrows. Dr. Gedreynir chuckled.

"You see?" he said. "There's the reaction I'm used to. So you can understand my own surprise when S.H.I.E.L.D. knocks on my door and says they believe me. But back to my hypothesis. According to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s reports, the tesseract itself has made no attempt to communicate, or at least, none that we have been capable of understanding. So that's why I'm here; to see if I can, for lack of a better phrase, talk to it. Of course, even if I'm wrong, the tesseract is still a magnificent artifact. It's already proven itself to be a nearly limitless energy source." Dr. Gedreynir laughed. "It's like the old saying goes: put the gun away, Natasha, it won't do you any good."

Bruce blinked, confused, then glanced at Agent Romanoff, who had silently drawn her gun and aimed it between Dr. Gedreynir's eyes.

"It is Natasha today, isn't it?" said Dr. Gedreynir, seemingly unconcerned by her threat.

"Where is Agent Barton," she said.

"Have you checked the rafters?" said Dr. Gedreynir. "As I understand it, that was the bird's usual perch."

_Was_. Bruce felt a chill run through his veins as he took an involuntary step back from Dr. Gedreynir.

"The alarms are already tripped," said Agent Romanoff. "You're not getting away. Tell me where he is and they might go easy on you."

"An intriguing offer. Alternatively, I could ignore you, grab the tesseract, and leave here a free man."

With that, he lurched to one side, his gangly frame becoming elegant in motion, and dodged behind Erik. He grabbed Erik by the shoulders––Erik, who still wore a dim, contented smile, and why hadn't Bruce realized how wrong that was before?––and shoved him at Agent Romanoff. Bruce caught Erik before he could slam into the agent, or more likely, the floor, as Agent Romanoff had ignored the human projectile in favor of chasing after Dr. Gedreynir, whose long legs had already taken him halfway across the lab to the tesseract.

The air around Dr. Gedreynir blurred, a combination of heat mirage and gold dust. His clothes melted away into a set of medieval armor that should not have fit under his shirt and slacks. (That is, assuming the laws of conservation of matter still applied; Bruce wasn't sure they did.) Tiles warped under Dr. Gedreynir's boots, the rules of perspective crumbling beneath his tread.

Watching Dr. Gedreynir's transformation gave Bruce a sharp pinching sensation in his forehead, making his eyes water before it faded into a dull throb. Worse than that was the low growl in the back of his mind that grew louder by the second. Bruce grit his teeth and, lacking any other distraction, forced his eyelids wide to take in the sight of a horned helmet appearing on Dr. Gedreynir's head and a green cape snapping into existence at his shoulders and streaming out behind him as he ran.

Agent Romanoff, apparently unaffected by the sight of the laws of physics disintegrating before her very eyes, snatched the end of the cape and yanked. Dr. Gedreynir went down into a slide. A short gold-and-silver spear appeared in his hand and he spun around and struck out at her with it, narrowly missing her face. She grabbed the spear. Its point ended up facing the rafters as they grappled for control.

A brilliant burst of blue light shot out from its tip. There was a tremendous explosion, the shock waves reverberating down and forcing all four of them to the ground. Dust drifted down in an enormous cloud and a block of concrete as big as Bruce's torso hit the floor barely three feet away from his head.

Bruce flinched back from it and struggled to get his legs under him. A startled gasp of air yielded only concrete particulates and he coughed, falling down to his knees again. He squinted through the dust cloud. Erik was nowhere to be seen. Neither were Agent Romanoff and "Dr. Gedreynir," though Bruce could hear them fighting even as more of the roof crumbled down around them all.

Then, true to Agent Romanoff's word, the base's alarms went off, blasting Bruce's eardrums with rhythmic electronic screeching.

After much struggle and some dust-clearing, Bruce managed to get up onto his hands and knees. He crawled, feeling his way forward with one hand until it came into contact with a smooth, sturdy surface. One of the computer desks, though the machine formerly on top of it was no doubt smashed to pieces by the fight.

There was no way in hell the desk provided adequate cover, but Bruce huddled under it anyway, his hands held over his ears to block out the sound of the alarms. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep his breathing steady. It was proving difficult to convince himself he wasn't in danger while the lab fell down around him. Convincing himself everyone else was fine was even harder.

He dared a glance at what little of the chaos he could see from his hiding place. The dust had mostly settled, but Erik was still out of his line of sight. Bruce couldn't decide whether that was good or bad. Good, he supposed, because if he couldn't see Erik's corpse laid out on the floor, there was a chance he was up and running, maybe out of the compound entirely and safe.

A spike of panic shot through Bruce's chest, and he curled in tighter on himself. He shouldn't have thought about corpses, shouldn't have considered the possibility that his friend was dead, the first friend he'd had in longer than he cared to remember, a friend who trusted him with dangerous experiments and delicate equipment and his life, his life, the life he might not even have anymore at this point and––

Deep breaths. Difficult to get in through clenched teeth, but he tried.

He hated this, he hated the teeth-grinding and the trembling and the need for catharsis he couldn't allow himself to have. Hated being as afraid of himself as everyone else, and rightly so, because––

"Banner!"

Agent Romanoff's voice, cutting through a lull between alarm blasts.

"Dr. Selvig, stay down! Banner, are you all right? Answer me!"

Getting shouted at didn't do much to calm his nerves. He took another deep, shuddering breath before calling back.

"I'm––" That was loud, too loud; it wasn't a good sign when the sound of his own voice made him flinch.

"––fine!" And there he'd sounded like he was being strangled. He winced and tried to regulate his breathing again; he'd gone back to near-hyperventilating in the last few seconds.

"Good!" said Agent Romanoff. "Stay that way!"

Bruce knew she wasn't stupid. She must have noticed his tone, must know he was seconds from––

A man's scream cut through the sound of shifting debris. Erik.

"Medics to the Cube lab, now!" Agent Romanoff shouted. "Dr. Selvig is down!"

Gunshots. The man in the helmet ran past Bruce's hiding spot. In his hand was the tesseract. It glowed and hissed. In his other hand was the spear. Its tip was covered in something red. Agent Romanoff ran after him.

Bruce growled, his hands curling into fists, nails digging into his palms until they broke skin. Agent Romanoff skidded to a halt and looked back.

"Dr. Banner," she said, "you have to––"

"Get. Away!" said Bruce, ducking his head, grabbing his hair with both hands and pulling a clump out by the root. "Help Erik!"

"Dr. Banner––"

_Dr. Banner has left the building_ , Bruce thought to himself, and he would have laughed, but the cords in his throat were pulling and twisting and growing and it came out as a roar.


	3. Chapter 3

"The Puente Antiguo lab was working on a series of highly classified experiments," said Agent Coulson as he led Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three on a complex path through the corridors of the Helicarrier. Though it was currently moving at tremendous speed towards New Mexico, there was only the slightest tremble coming from the metal grating under their boots. "Dr. Foster, Dr. Selvig, and Dr. Banner were researchers on site, with Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton assigned to provide twenty-four hour surveillance. At oh-seven-twenty-four, Agent Romanoff lost contact with Agent Barton and tripped the alarms at the Puente Antiguo lab. An intruder made himself known by attacking Dr. Selvig and stealing the Cube––the object of his research."

"Does Erik still live?" said Thor. "Where is Jane?" His fist clenched tight around Mjolnir's handle.

"Dr. Foster left the site at oh-three-thirty this morning to attend a conference in Pasadena," said Agent Coulson. "She's currently being debriefed on the situation by our agents on location. Dr. Selvig has been removed from the area and is currently undergoing treatment for his wounds."

"Will he live?" said Thor.

"His wounds were relatively minor, considering the damage done to the facility. Overall his prognosis is good," said Agent Coulson. Thor frowned, confused, and Coulson added, "Yes, he will live."

Thor nodded stiffly, relaxing his grip on his hammer.

"And there was a third," said Sif. "Banner?"

"Dr. Banner does not react well to stress," said Coulson. "When upset, he transforms into a twelve-foot tall, green-skinned monster with no known weaknesses."

A fantastic tale, but not the unlikeliest thing Thor had heard in his thousand years.

"This monster has been loosed?" said Thor.

"That's why we need you." Coulson glanced sideways at Thor. "So far, you're our best chance of containing him. We're assuming your friends can also lend a hand in that area."

"Containing him," said Hogun, his customary tone turning the inquiry into statement. "Not killing."

"Correct," said Agent Coulson.

Volstagg furrowed his brow. Thor could sympathize. It was only recently he had come to understand the Midgardian preference for leaving enemies alive.

"Doesn't sound much worse than a Frost Giant," said Fandral, flashing Thor a winning and eager grin. Thor returned it and clapped a hand on his companion's shoulder.

"You won't be on your own," said Coulson. "Captain America and Iron Man are waiting for you on the flight deck."

Agent Coulson led them up a narrow metal staircase to the next level; it was full of agents, all busy, all in motion, but they swiftly cleared a path for Coulson's party, most not bothering to look up from their work to do so. A junior agent––very junior, judging by the wide-eyed look he gave the Aesir as he approached––handed off a small plastic case to Agent Coulson. The Son of Coul took it and cracked it open, removing four earpiece communicators and passing them out to Sif and the Warriors Three without breaking his stride or pausing his speech.

"These will let you communicate with the rest of the team remotely. Black Widow, Captain America, and Iron Man are already online. Put the round end in either ear," he instructed, gesturing to Thor's communicator as an example, "and let the rest of it point towards your mouth."

With a quick glance at Thor, who nodded, they all obeyed. Volstagg was the first to get his in place.

"WELL MET, FRIENDS!"

Thor winced at the volume of Volstagg's voice, both in person and coming through the communicator in his ear.

"Oh God, it's Minnesota all over again," Stark said at a much more reasonable volume, cutting off Thor's attempt to explain the finer points of the technology to his companions.

"Iron Man, mute it," said the Captain. "Who else is talking?"

"'TIS VOLSTAGG THE VALIANT!"

"Right. Volstagg, this is Captain America. I think we met earlier, in Kansas?"

"INDEED WE DID!"

"Volstagg, the communicator picks up your voice for us," said the Captain. "You don't need to shout to be heard."

"Notice how we're not shouting now?" said Stark.

"...Ah," said Volstagg after a moment of apparent contemplation. "My apologies."

"No harm done," said the Captain amiably.

"Speak for yourself," said Stark. "I'm still getting echoes in the helmet."

The Captain's muffled sigh carried over the communicators. "Agent Romanoff, report."

"The Hulk and the intruder have left the area," a woman's voice replied immediately.

There was a beat of tense silence.

"Can you elaborate?" said the Captain.

"The intruder is gone, and last I saw, the Hulk was keeping up with him," said Agent Romanoff. "They're headed towards Albuquerque. The intruder's trying to lose Hulk in a metropolitan area."

"What's between Puente Antiguo and Albuquerque?" said the Captain.

"Too many small towns and suburbs for my liking," said Stark, cutting off Agent Coulson's answer. "I vote we take them down now."

"Coulson, what's our ETA?" said the Captain.

"Twenty minutes," said Agent Coulson.

"Bet Fabio and I could get there in ten," said Stark.

"And who is Fabio?" said Sif, eyebrow raised.

"He means Thor," said Coulson.

Thor added "Fabio" to his list of kennings, and resolved to ask Jane of its meaning when next they met.

"Scratch that, I just ran the calculations," said Stark. "We can make it in seven and a half. Wanna send us in ahead, Cap?"

"Your choice, Agent Romanoff," said the Captain. "Iron Man or Thor?"

"Iron Man," she said. "Right now we need speed over strength if we're going to recover the Cube."

"Always knew you loved me best," said Stark.

Thor and his companions reached the flight deck just in time to see the Iron Man armor streak through the sky overhead. Stark indulged himself in a looping arc before heading off to the field of battle. The Captain jogged over to them shortly after. Agent Coulson directed all six of them towards a flying machine that did not seem quite large enough to contain them, but the Midgardian construction surpassed Thor's expectations. In less than a minute, Thor, the Lady Sif, the Warrior's Three, and the Captain were strapped in and on their way.

The first indication that they had neared the battlefield came in the form of an enormous dust cloud on the ground below, manifesting near a small collection of houses. Further observation showed it was moving, not as fast as Thor and his compatriots, but ever closer to the helpless mortals and their homes. The pilot circled the area and lowered the helicopter as the Captain gave his final orders.

"The town is being evacuated," he said, inaudible in person yet perfectly clear over the communicators, "but there are a few stragglers. I'm going in to find them. Hogun, Fandral, you with me?"

"Aye, Captain!" said Fandral. Hogun simply nodded.

"Thor," the Captain continued, "you take Sif and Volstagg and stop the Hulk before he reaches the town."

"What of the intruder?" said Thor.

"I've got him covered," Stark's voice cut in. Thor looked out of the helicopter to see the Iron Man circling the dust cloud like a raven waiting for battle's end.

The Captain nodded. "Soon as you get the Hulk out of the way, Iron Man will swoop in and retrieve the Cube. Everybody ready?"

"Roger!" said Stark. The Captain sighed.

"Verily," said Thor, giving the Captain a hearty clap on the shoulder. The helicopter flew low once more, and the warriors jumped to the ground and hit it at a run. They stopped halfway between the swiftly-approaching dust cloud and the edge of the town, arranging themselves into a loose line and bracing for the imminent arrival of the monster.

"Be nice if we could see what we were fighting," said Sif.

Thor took the hint and swung Mjolnir in a tight circle, creating a whirlwind of his own. Dust blew off around the three of them, but as they were in the center of Thor's personal windstorm, their own immediate field of vision was clear. As the enemies' dust cloud clashed with their own, they got their first look at the monster.

The Hulk was much like Agent Coulson had described; no horns or tentacles or fangs, simply large and green. Its roar and bellow were more monstrous than its appearance. And yet, despite the striking shade of its emerald skin, it was overshadowed by its opponent: a tall, thin man in a horned, golden helm, holding a glowing cube in one hand and a spear in the other.

"Odin's beard!" said Volstagg. "Is that...?"

It was. Sound fell away and time seemed to crawl as Thor took in the sight of the brother he'd thought lost forever. Loki had always been thin, but the man fighting the Hulk was thinner still, with heavy shadows around his eyes and under his cheeks. His green cloak, torn and darkly stained, flapped feebly behind him.

Thor stared, agog, as Loki dealt the Hulk a brutal slap to the face with his spear. The Hulk reached out to return the blow but the image of Loki before him dissolved, and the real Loki appeared behind the monster to strike it again. The armor around his torso was crumpled and one of his bracers was twisted; it seemed the Hulk had gotten in a few good hits despite Loki's demonstrated expertise in evasion.

Thor's vision blurred with untimely tears; he blinked them back and ran headfirst into the fray, shouting his brother's name.

"Thor, wait!" cried Sif.

Thor turned his head to confront her, to explain that Loki was his brother and clearly meant him no harm, but was cut off by the roar that announced the Hulk had spotted him. 

He readied Mjolnir and swung, but to no avail; the Hulk grabbed him by his scarlet cape and flung him into the side of a building. Fortunately, thanks to the flimsy nature of Midgardian architecture, more damage was done to the brick wall than to Thor. 

Thor spun his hammer and pushed off of the ruined wall, launching himself at the monster. One, two, three strikes of Mjolnir to the face, and usually that was enough to slow anything down. But though the creature's head snapped from side to side with the force of the blows, its fury remained undiminished.

The Hulk refocused its gaze on Thor, its face unmarred by Thor's efforts, and answered the attack by grabbing his arm mid-strike and flinging him to the ground. Thor felt the asphalt crack under his back, and the Hulk slammed an enormous green foot into his chest to stomp him deeper into the crater he'd created. 

Volstagg ran up, swinging his axe into the trunk of a leg. Thor had seen a thousand strikes like it; by all rights it should have severed the monster's limb. But the blade bounced off the green skin, the blowback sending Volstagg stumbling away.

Thor ignored the stabbing pains in his ribs and grabbed at the Hulk's ankle. Both his hands were unable to wrap around its girth. Nevertheless, he pulled to the right and down, trying to throw it off-balance. Its heel barely slid an inch. 

A fierce war cry rent the air and Sif appeared over the Hulk's shoulder, landing glaive-first in the Hulk's skull. Any other foe would have had its brains scooped out by her strike, but the Hulk's skin remained unpierced and its bones unbroken. It shook her off with a shrug; she barely avoided landing on top of Volstagg, who was running in again to give the Hulk another strike with his axe.

Thor struggled to breathe. He beat at the monstrous leg with his fists, kicking his own heels against the dirt.

A blue bolt of energy streaked through the air and struck the monster in the face. The hit left no mark, but the creature howled and staggered back a step, releasing Thor, who rolled out of the way and jumped to his feet. 

"Many thanks, Man of Iron!" he said into the comm.

"You're welcome," said Stark, "but that wasn't me."

Thor's mind spun. If the bolt had not been from Stark's repulsors, then who...?

Of course.

Loki.

He whirled around, scanning the horizon for any sign of his brother. There was nothing but dust and mortal homes. Then, not far off, more flashes of blue, from sky to ground and ground to sky. His brother had found his armored comrade, or vice-versa.

"Iron Man!" Thor shouted into the comm, even as the Hulk charged. He bought himself time for another breath with a quick parry that would have made Fandral proud. "Cease your fire!"

"Seriously?" said Stark. "I'm being shot up by the freak who stole our cube, and you want me to stop fighting back?"

"Verily!" said Thor, ducking the Hulk's punch. A green fist ended up lodged in a wall.

"What is with you people and shouting," said Stark.

"Your opponent is my brother!" said Thor, and damn Stark, this was no time for measured speech. The mortal could learn to cope with the sound of a strong voice. "An ally! Do not harm him!"

Thor heard his own voice break on those last words. If Loki were returned to him only to be killed in this battle...

The Hulk wrenched its fist free of the wall, but Thor was nowhere near it. He had taken off towards the blue flashes. Both Volstagg and Sif shouted after him, and he felt a pang of regret at leaving them behind to face the monster, but he knew it would be nothing to the pain he would feel at losing Loki again.

Another bolt of energy clipped his shoulder, though whether it was magical or mortal in origin, Thor couldn't say. The strike sent him spinning to the ground regardless. He was on his feet again in short order, crouched beside an overturned car. He rolled his shoulder idly, ignoring the sting as he squinted up at the sky.

There. Another bolt from air to ground.

"Iron Man!" Thor cried, both into the sky and into the comm. "Be on your guard!"

After all, it seemed only fair to give his teammate a warning before he threw Mjolnir at him. 

"What the hell is––THOR!" Stark yelled, his voice magnified by his armor so that it bellowed over the battlefield. As Thor had planned, Mjolnir missed its mark, though probably not by much.

"An obstinate wall of meat," came the answer, and though the words were an insult, the sound of Loki's voice was well worth it to Thor's ears.

"Brother!" said Thor, leaping out from cover. Some of the dust settled and he spotted a tall, thin shadow ahead. "Listen to me! We are not your enemies!"

The shadow turned to face him. At that instant, Mjolnir fell from the sky into Thor's palm.

The shadow fled.

"Wait!" Thor shouted, running after him. "Loki, I beg you––!"

A roar of rage was all the warning he received before a massive green behemoth landed directly in his path. The tremors of aftershock knocked Thor to the ground, and he barely rolled aside in time to avoid being crushed by the Hulk's fist as the monster pummeled the dirt in a tantrum. Thor dashed around the monster, desperately searching the horizon for any sign of his brother. The shadow had disappeared entirely, though a small, curious blue glow twinkled off in the distance. It was shortly joined by the form of Iron Man landing beside it. 

Thor didn't have time to discern anything else before the Hulk was upon him again. He deflected its furious punches with Mjolnir as the Captain's voice came over the comm.

"––on Man! Thor! Do you copy?"

"Aye, Captain!" Thor grunted.

"Yeah, Cap, we copy," replied Stark. "What's up?"

"You've been off comm for three minutes and twelve seconds. What's going on over there?"

"The Horny Beanpole disappeared but he left the Cube behind," said Stark. "Also Thor threw his hammer at me, we should probably discuss that at some point."

"His name is Loki," Thor growled, and would have had more to say on the matter if the Hulk hadn't made a grab for his flowing locks.

"Whatever," said Stark. "Consider the Cube recovered. By me. You're welcome."

The Captain did not thank him. "And the Hulk?"

"With me, Captain!" said Thor, barely keeping himself out of the Hulk's reach; he lost a few hairs in the process.

"Where are you?" said the Captain.

"We're on the corner of Main and Pleasant," said Stark. "Or what's left of it."

"Thor," said the Captain with an edge to his tone, "get the Hulk out of the town. Now."

"Aye, Captain!" Thor said again, then to the monster: "If you desire to crush me, you shall have to catch me first!"

He threw Mjolnir into the air, neglecting to let go of the handle and letting himself be yanked upward and away. The Hulk roared again, bent its bulging green legs, and jumped after him.

They landed in the desert roughly a mile outside of town, Thor mere seconds ahead of the Hulk, in a small crater of their own making. The Hulk immediately made a grab for Thor's flapping red cape. Thor whipped it out of the Hulk's grasp, replacing it with a hammer blow. The Hulk didn't so much as wince.

"Keep him distracted," said the Captain, his voice tinny in Thor's ear. "Try to wear him down."

"It is to be a battle of endurance, then?" said Thor, ending his question with a grunt as the Hulk's fist glanced off his stomach; he'd barely jumped back in time to avoid taking the full brunt of the blow.

"More like attrition," said Stark.

"Less comm chatter, more Cube containment," said the Captain. "Thor, we're sending in reinforcements, but we're counting on you to keep him where he is."

"My comrades?" said Thor, side-stepping another grab from the Hulk.

"Are the reinforcements," said the Captain. "We had to mute their communicators for a bit––"

"Let me guess," said Stark. "They weren't happy with Thor's disappearing act and expressed this by shouting?"

"––but they should be back on shortly."

"You have my thanks," said Thor. He shed his cloak entirely and threw it in the Hulk's face. If the creature desired the red cloth so badly, it could damn well have it––followed up with another hammer blow. The monster shook off both the strike and the cloak and lashed out with flailing fists, which Thor batted aside with Mjolnir.

At last, the Hulk seemed to identify Mjolnir as the source of all its pain, and a massive green hand shot forward to wrap around the hammer's head. Thor yanked it back, but though he was the hammer's rightful wielder, the Hulk's grip remained firm. Its attempts to wrench the hammer away from Thor became still more violent, until one final twist-and-pull produced a popping sound in Thor's wrist. His hand snapped open involuntarily, pain lancing up and down his forearm. 

The Hulk experienced less than a second of triumph before the hammer fell. Its impact with the dirt made more dust than would be expected of an object its size, and when the dust cleared, Thor saw the Hulk's hand pinned palm-up beneath Mjolnir's head.

The beast blinked at the hammer and tried to raise the arm trapped under it; no luck. It growled and wrapped its other hand around the handle, but the hammer would not be moved. No matter how much rage it put into its cries and pulls, its hand was stuck fast to the dirt.

Thor, idly holding his injured arm with his good hand, began to laugh.

The Hulk bellowed with renewed fury and reached for him with its free arm, but Thor easily stepped back out of its reach.

"Glad tidings, Captain!" said Thor into the comm. "I have the creature pinned!"

"How secure is he?" said the Captain.

"No force but myself could move the Hulk from this spot," said Thor.

"Good. Stand by for reinforcements. Do not antagonize the Hulk further."

"Aye," said Thor. He stifled his chuckles, though a small smile remained on his face. He flexed his wounded limb; already the pain was beginning to ebb. No doubt it would be healed in a few hours.

While Thor waited, he listened to the comm chatter, keeping abreast of what transpired in the town he'd left behind.

"If we could get some actual containment options out here I'd appreciate it," Stark was saying. Then, "No, really, it's burning my glove, I can feel it through the armor, it should not be doing that, nothing I've tested is capable of doing that, JARVIS had to reboot the HUD after looking at it, what the hell is––"

An unfamiliar male voice came over the communicators, interrupting Stark's tirade.

"Iron Man, stand by to receive Cube case."

"Rhodey?" said Stark. "Oh thank God."

"Which one?" 

"Take your pick."

By the time the Lady Sif and the Warrior's Three arrived, dropped off by helicopter a few hundred yards off, Thor had recovered his cloak, spread it on the ground, and was sitting on it with his chin balanced on his fists. The Hulk continued to scream wildly and thrash about, but Mjolnir, as promised, remained immovable.

"Is this a picnic?" said Sif with a raised eyebrow, glancing from Thor on his cloak to the Hulk under the hammer.

"If so, it's a poor one," said Volstagg. "Whoever heard of a picnic with no food to be had?"

"Are you all right?" said Hogun, addressing Thor directly.

Thor held up his previously-injured arm and wiggled his fingers with nary a wince. 

"Aye," he said, then dropped his chin back into his palm.

"Forgive my impudence," said Fandral. "But why have we not finished the beast off?"

Thor raised his head and straightened his posture, narrowing his eyes at Fandral.

"Our orders are to contain the Hulk," said Thor. "Not destroy it."

"Orders from mortals," scoffed Fandral.

Thor stood.

"We are in their realm, fighting their monsters and defending their cause," said Thor. "It stands to reason we would follow their orders, provided they are given by good people in good faith."

Fandral shut his mouth and nodded.

"What now?" said Hogun.

"We wait," said Thor. "And we leave the Hulk be."

"Guard duty, then?" said Sif.

Thor nodded.

Sif and the Warrior's Three heaved a nearly-collective sigh, then re-formed themselves into a loose circle facing the Hulk, well out of its reach. Since Thor no longer had Mjolnir available to defend himself, Sif loaned him one of her daggers. Every few minutes, the Captain's voice sounded in Thor's ear, making inquiries about the situation. Thor reported he had nothing to report.

Through all this, the Hulk fought the hammer, to no avail. Over the course of an hour or so, its flailing and fist-waving slowed, until it made only occasional swipes at the hammer with its free hand. At last it stopped, panting, out of breath and exhausted. It turned to Thor, made one final, aborted lunge in his direction, then collapsed face-first in the dirt.

"...Now?" said Hogun after a moment of silence.

"Captain," said Thor, "the Hulk is––"

But the Hulk was no longer the Hulk. Even as Thor watched, the great green mass twisted and buckled, shrinking in on itself and turning pale, until only a small mortal man remained, unconscious and prone, hand still trapped under Mjolnir.

"––is Banner," Thor finished. The Captain indulged in a sigh of relief.

"Good work," said the Captain. "Is he conscious?"

"Nay," said Thor.

"Don't do anything to wake him," said the Captain. "No loud noises or sudden movements. If he does get up, keep him calm but contained. Do not let him escape."

"I give you my word," said Thor. "He cannot hope to flee."

"Stand by," said the Captain. The comm went silent. Thor turned to his comrades.

"The Captain says––" he began.

"We know," said Hogun.

"They shut out our voices," said Sif, "but allow us to hear them."

Thor nodded. "Then you know our orders."

"And what of yours?" said Sif. "What would you have us do?"

"Listen to the mortals," said Thor.

Fandral sighed quietly and shuffled his feet.

"Might we sit, at least?" said Volstagg. Thor nodded his assent. Volstagg made to flop, then thought better of it and gently lowered himself, keeping a wary eye on their sleeping prisoner.

Thor retrieved his cloak and fixed Banner with a thoughtful gaze. Slowly, he made his way towards him.

"Thor," Sif hissed through her teeth, "what are you doing?"

Thor closed the final few feet and laid his cloak over the mortal's bare back.

"The sun burns mortal skin," he explained, keeping his voice low.

"It will set shortly," said Hogun with a glance at the western horizon.

"And then he will be cold," said Thor.

Hogun looked from Thor to Banner, shrugged, but said nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

"So when's the debriefing?" said Clint.

It sounded more like _sowenzthuh-debreffin_ , but "Clint Barton on painkillers" was one of the many dialects Natasha Romanoff could decipher. Her reply came with a fond smile.

"Seven minutes," she said.

"Cool," said Clint. He tried for a sage nod, got up and down mixed up with left and right, and ended up rolling his head around on the pillow for a bit. Natasha waited patiently for him to get himself sorted out. His wounds weren't too severe––two cracked ribs and a dislocated shoulder, plus an unknown method used to render him unconscious––but SHIELD Medical had declared him unfit for duty and ordered him confined to bed rest for the remainder of the day. Natasha gently reminded him of this fact.

"Like that's gonna be a problem," said Clint. "Seven minutes? We can definitely make it. You handle the diversion, I'll handle the crawling out of bed and into the air ducts."

"Okay," said Natasha. She counted the seconds in her head as Clint detailed his increasingly-elaborate escape plan. In thirty-four seconds he was nodding with fatigue; in fifty-five he was out. Natasha counted off an extra twenty seconds to be sure before she left his bedside.

Clint's plan wasn't completely unsalvageable; using the airducts helped her arrive at the debriefing a full two minutes ahead of Fury. He didn't say a word when he walked into the conference room, flicked on the lights and found her sitting quietly to the right of his seat. She could tell from the suppressed twitch under his good eye that he was impressed.

Captain Rogers followed on Fury's heels. He nodded to Natasha and took the seat next to hers, shoulders back, spine straight. He probably intended for his expression to look stern. In reality, his tightly-clenched jaw revealed an uncharacteristic wellspring of rage under his obedient soldier veneer. Natasha couldn't really blame him. While the mission had ultimately succeeded, his team had gone wildly out of bounds in the process. Certain members more than others.

Thor entered next, a respectful distance behind Rogers, with the other Asgardians trailing in behind him. They were in various states of confusion; Sif with an edge of impatience, Volstagg with fear, Fandral with pure bewilderment, and Hogun with resignation. Natasha noted them all and cast them aside to focus on Thor.

Thor had walked in with his head bowed and eyes barely focused. He wasn't quite shuffling, but Natasha suspected this was because, as a prince, he didn't know how. The most he could manage was a sort of forced march. The Asgardians followed him like ducklings. They were lucky debriefings had become routine for him; he was running on autopilot and could have taken them anywhere. He sat down across from Rogers and Natasha without saying a word, and the other Asgardians followed suit.

Tony Stark came in last, ten seconds after the meeting was scheduled to start. He said hello to no one, kept his eyes hidden behind mirrored aviator lenses and his phone in front of his face. A kick from his Testoni shoes sent the chair next to Rogers into a spin; he hopped on and let himself twirl around lazily before dragging his toes to stop his momentum. He ended up slumped, more lying-down than sitting-up.

"Are you finished?" said Fury.

Natasha suppressed a smirk. Both of them could see through Stark's bored playboy act. He'd arrived late, yes, but way earlier than he would have if he were uninterested in the meeting. The theatrics were overcompensation for his desire to be there.

"Yeah, I'm good," said Stark with a lazy wave of his phone. He sat up straighter when Fury glanced away.

"So," said Fury, turning to Rogers. "What the fuck happened out there?"

"We retrieved the Cube and shut down the Hulk with minimal damage to civilian property," replied Rogers without missing a beat.

"But you didn't catch the bad guy," said Fury.

"No, sir, we did not," Rogers admitted.

"And why is that?" said Fury.

"Because somebody," interrupted Stark, "and I'm not naming names, but his initials are T-H-O-R, threw his hammer at my face."

"We encountered some difficulties with team cohesion," said Rogers, ignoring Stark's input. "Naturally, I take full responsibility for the failure to prepare my team and improve their communication skills before we all got caught up in the heat of the moment."

Natasha resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. That was Rogers all over––if he couldn't find a literal grenade to throw himself on, he'd settle for a metaphorical one.

She glanced across the table at Thor, who had yet to say a single syllable in his own defense. The Asgardians were looking at him as well, but seemed reluctant to speak without their prince's permission.

Fury glowered at Rogers.

"I'm expecting better of you next time," he said. "Much better."

"Yes, sir," said Rogers.

"Any questions?" said Fury.

Stark raised his hand, not looking up from the screen of his phone. "I vote we let Dr. Banner join the Avengers."

Fury narrowed his eye. "That's not a question."

"No, but it's a great idea and we should definitely do it."

"Why do you want Dr. Banner to become part of the Avengers Initiative," said Fury, sounding, if possible, even less amused than before.

"I need someone who can keep up with me," said Stark. "Intellectually, I mean. Plus the whole ragemonster schtick is a perfect complement for Thor's big smashy hammer. And what's your alternative? Sticking him in a cell for the rest of his life?"

"SHIELD is currently exploring options for Dr. Banner's containment," said Fury.

"So you haven't decided yet," said Stark, pointing his phone at Fury. "Great. Add 'Avengers Initiative' to the list of containment options. Better yet, bump it to the top, 'cause that's what we're gonna end up doing. Back me up on this, Cap."

All eyes turned to Rogers.

"Captain Rogers, please shut this dumbass idea down," said Fury. "Or I will be forced to do it for you."

"With all due respect, sir," said Rogers, "I think Stark's suggestion has some merit."

Fury lifted his eyebrow. "I trust you have a damn good explanation for your reasoning."

"I do," said Rogers. "Sir, today we proved Agent Romanoff's preliminary report right; the Hulk can be contained. Now that we know how to deal with the Hulk, he's even less of a threat than he was when we first brought Banner onto the base. And SHIELD still needs him to help study the Cube."

"Plus," added Stark, "the Hulk makes a hell of a bodyguard for the Cube and the rest of the research team. We know at least one person is targeting the Cube."

Fury stroked his chin; he was actually considering their proposal. Natasha allowed herself to indulge in a quirked eyebrow of surprise even as she rationalized his behavior. Perhaps recruiting the Hulk as well as Banner had been his plan from the beginning.

"Agent Romanoff," said Fury, as though he could read her mind. "In your opinion, would Dr. Banner or the Hulk be an asset to the Avengers Initiative?"

Natasha let her other eyebrow rise to join the first as she quickly composed an acceptable answer.

"Dr. Banner has highly specialized knowledge regarding gamma radiation," she said. "SHIELD needs this knowledge for its research on the Cube. Dr. Banner also has highly specialized knowledge regarding the Hulk. No one is more aware of the danger posed by the Hulk's rampages. By the same token, in exiling himself to Siberia, Dr. Banner has proven that he will go above and beyond to keep civilians safe from the Hulk. Dr. Banner wants the Hulk to get out as much as we do; which is to say, not at all. The military's efforts to stop him have only made the situation worse, whereas we, like Captain Rogers said, seem to have developed an effective strategy to deal with the threat posed by the Hulk. If we work with Dr. Banner rather than against him, we may find a way to completely control the Hulk, and add two new agents to SHIELD's roster. Conversely, if we lock him up now, it's likely we'll just be adding more fuel to the Hulk's rage when it inevitably escapes. And when it does, its rage will be directed at us rather than, say, Loki."

Silence followed her little speech. Natasha congratulated herself for the small quirk of a smile that tugged at the corner of Fury's mouth for a split second before his dour mask snapped back into place.

"You make a compelling point," said Fury. "Speaking of Loki, what can you tell us about him?"

Natasha didn't flinch as Thor's eyes focused for the first time that meeting.

* * *

 

Thor heard but half of what the others discussed. His gaze fell on his forearms, loosely crossed in front of him on the glossy black table, and his mind drifted away.

He'd come to terms with his brother's death, slowly, or at least that's what he'd told himself. Couldn't spend all his days dragging himself through the motions of living, flying into rages when he remembered what he'd lost. To never have the chance to apologize, to fix what had been broken...

But Thor had done it, had steadied his stance and taken deep breath after deep breath, because he could still breathe and because he had to. Asgard had lost one son, and it was a tragedy. To lose two would be catastrophic. Neither his mother or father ever said as much, but he wasn't completely incapable of picking up subtleties. (Though Loki had always been more skillful in that particular area.)

Thor resolved to remember only what was good of Loki, and there was more of that than anyone else seemed prepared to admit. No one spoke ill of the dead, of course, but a certain silence would descend whenever Loki's name came up in conversation. Thor, mindful of his temper, tended to leave soon after these silences arose.

Retrieving Loki's bracers after he'd fallen had proven impossible, so Thor had commissioned a new set for himself, emblazoned with the image of Loki's helm. A poor substitute, but one he'd hoped would do the memory of his brother justice. He wore them with pride.

It was these bracers that held his attention. At least, they did until Fury made mention of Loki. Thor's head snapped up just as Agent Romanoff cleared her throat.

"He's a master of disguise," she said. "Loki has technology that allows him to instantly disguise himself. If I had to guess, I'd say it was some kind of hologram."

"'Tis magic," said Sif. "He's well-versed in the arcane arts, able to create false images of himself."

"What else can he do?" said the Captain.

Fandral shrugged. "None of us are trained in the use of magic. All we know is what Loki would tell us, and that was precious little."

 _Because no one would listen_ , came the thought, unbidden, to Thor's mind. He found his arms lifting from the table, his fingers clenching around its edge as his anger boiled within.

"The illusion doesn't just change his appearance," said Romanoff. "He alters his speaking patterns, his movements, his entire demeanor. He goes from being an awkward scientist to a cold-blooded killer in an instant."

"Sounds like the perfect spy," said Stark, leering at Romanoff. She ignored him.

"Any insight into his personality profile?" said Fury.

"Narcissistic, perhaps?" said Stark. For once, his contribution was acknowledged.

"I'm inclined to call him a full-fledged sociopath," said Romanoff. "Especially considering his penchant for disguise and complete disregard for human life."

"I will not hear my brother spoken of in such a manner!" said Thor.

Every head in the conference room turned to face him; some annoyed, most wide-eyed with astonishment or fear. Fandral's gaze in particular flicked from Thor's face to Thor's hands and back again.

Belatedly, Thor realized he was standing, and having forgotten to let go of the table's edge, had brought it up with him. It now teetered dangerously, his grip the only thing preventing it from falling onto the Midgardians seated across from him. The folders, papers, pens and tablets that had been scattered over its surface now littered the floor (save for Stark's phone, clutched safely to his chest).

His Aesir companions seemed to be holding their breath, waiting to see what he'd do. Volstagg gulped audibly.

Thor felt his cheeks flush with shame. It had been over a year since his last outburst; he'd hoped he'd changed, become a better and more temperate man. Evidently not. Gingerly, he set the table back down where it belonged, then took his seat.

"Forgive me," he said. "I should not have interrupted."

"No, you shouldn't have," said Director Fury, his disappointed tone reminding Thor of a certain other one-eyed commander. "But while you have our attention, do you have anything to add to Agent Romanoff's assessment?"

"Only this," said Thor. "That while my brother's actions of late have brought shame to the house of Odin and great harm to the realm of Midgard, I know him to be a powerful ally and a generous friend. For centuries, he and I have fought side by side, and he has saved my life and the lives of our comrades more times than we could count, likely more often than we cared to acknowledge." Here Thor's voice faltered, but quickly regained its volume as he continued. "We know he saved my life again today. Given a chance, I am certain he would repent his crimes. We must give him this chance. The Lady Sif and the Warriors Three will attest to the strength of his character."

Thor turned to his Aesir companions, a fond, wistful smile on his face. None of them were able to return it, though Fandral made a valiant effort.

"Friends...?" Thor prompted.

Fandral coughed and gave Volstagg a nudge in the ribs. Volstagg's eyes widened in panic and he shook his head quickly, earning a rougher nudge.

"Well, I––" Volstagg said, his gaze shifting from Thor, to ceiling, to floor, to Fandral, and to Thor again. "The fact of the matter is–– You see, Thor, while we are very happy indeed to find Loki alive, and have many, many fond memories of time spent in his company..."

Thor narrowed his eyes. Volstagg lost his voice. Sif sighed heavily and took over.

"Thor," she began, "We love Loki, truly we do, and it gladdens our hearts to see him again. But some things are not easily forgotten."

"Or forgiven," added Hogun.

"Not that we don't want to forgive!" said Fandral. "It's just... perhaps he should apologize first?"

Thor took a deep breath to reign in his temper. "Loki is my brother."

"No one is contesting that!" said Sif. "But he's also tried to kill you."

"And today, he saved my life," said Thor.

"That makes it okay?" said the Captain. Thor glared at him.

"Forgive him for his attempted fratricide," said Fandral. "That is your right. But he made an attempt on our lives, as well."

"And on Heimdall's," said Volstagg, his eyes flicking up to the ceiling once more.

"I'd like to take a moment to remind everyone of the time he leveled Puente Antiguo," said Director Fury.

"And how will he make up for the destruction of Jotunheim?" said Hogun, so quietly Thor almost didn't hear.

Thor looked around the room. How had he come to collect so many friends, yet so few allies?

"Not to mention today, when he shot up another one of our labs and dinged my suit," said Stark. "I mean, I can repair the suit no problem, but it's the principle of the thing."

Thor opened his mouth to retort, but Agent Romanoff interrupted before he could respond to Stark's insult.

"Thor," she said. "Both Agent Barton and Dr. Selvig are in medical bay thanks to Loki. If Jane had been there, what would he have done to her?"

Icy fear quenched the fire of rage in Thor's heart.

"Where is Jane?" he said.

"Still in Pasadena," said Director Fury. "She's been apprised of the situation and elected to stay the course and present her research at the conference before returning. She should be back tomorrow afternoon."

"Is she under guard?"

"Two agents, like we told you," said Fury, narrowing his eye. "Is there something we should know about, Thor?"

"When my brother and I last spoke––" _Fought_ , a small voice in his mind insisted, but Thor quickly quelled it. "––he made certain threats against her."

"And now Loki's gone missing," said Stark. "For all we know he could be on his way to Pasadena right––"

"Thor, sit down!" said the Captain.

Thor did not. It was only with difficulty he was even able to remain in the room, rather than smashing his way out of the compound and flying off to rescue Jane.

"Captain," he said with a small nod of acknowledgment. "I ask your leave to go to Pasadena and retrieve Jane. I can reach her more quickly than any on our team, save the Man of Iron, and I possess the strength required to best my brother in single combat."

"Do you even know where Pasadena is?" said Stark, interrupting the Captain's reply.

Thor tapped his communicator, still fitted snugly to his ear. "I'd hoped guidance could be provided."

"And who guards the Cube from your brother while you're gone?" said Fury.

"Dr. Banner," said Agent Romanoff.

Every occupant of the conference room turned his or her head to gawp at her. She appeared unfazed by the attention.

"As Mr. Stark pointed out, Loki took one hell of a beating from the Hulk," she continued. "As much as he wants the Cube, he's going to think twice before tangling with the Hulk again."

"See?" said Stark, lifting his chin at Fury. "The Hulk would make a great Avenger. Secret agent said so."

"So we're free to send Thor and Iron Man to Pasadena," said the Captain. He glanced at Fury. "With your approval, sir."

"Granted," said Fury. "Get going, get your girlfriend, get back here."

Thor did not need to be told twice. He fled the conference room almost before Fury had finished his sentence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for casual homophobia and villainous anti-Semitism. All screennames in this fic are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Darcy Lewis was pretty sure she'd aced her last World Religions assignment, and celebrated the triumph of turning it in by ordering a venti iced chai latte at one of the campus' Starbucks. Drink in hand, she sat down at an empty table and opened her laptop to check her Tumblr feed.

Ever since Jane had gotten Thor back, Darcy made a point of following all the Avengers fan blogs she could find. And boy, did they have fans. Usually she had about five pages of posts to catch up on in between classes, but today, the little counter at the top of the screen showed "100+" and refused to count any higher. Her eyes widened and she clicked through enough blinking reaction gifs to make her head ache. What the hell had happened while she was in class?

The reaction .gifs became .gifs taken from a shaky, low-quality video, and she squinted to make out what was going on. Wait, was that Thor? (Given the all-caps keysmash below the .gif, with the only readable words being "HE CAN HAMMER ME ANY DAY!!", she figured it was.) A few more minutes of backtracking and cursing, and finally some kind soul posted a YouTube link along with their graphics.

The video started with a shot through a window of a crumbling city street covered in dust and debris. The sound track was just the doofus who recorded the thing on his iPhone screaming about how he couldn't believe what was happening right in front of him, so Darcy muted it after a few seconds. This turned out to be a great decision, since the next thing that happened on screen was a massive green monster landing in the middle of the street and opening its mouth in what must have been a terrifying roar. Darcy jumped and covered her face with her hands, watching the rest of the video through her fingers.

The next four minutes were a dusty blur of green and red as Thor flew into view and fought the monster. Blue flashes lit up the background, highlighting a horned silhouette that Thor seemed desperate to reach. At last, the silhouette came to the foreground. Darcy caught view of a thin, pale man, but only for a split second. His arrival made the footage glitch out. By the time the video was back to normal, only Thor remained. It ended seconds later.

Darcy blinked at the screen.

"What the fuck did I just watch?" she muttered.

She hit the replay button and leaned in to her laptop, nose inches from the monitor as she studied the footage. The second viewing only left her with more questions. For one, what was Thor yelling? He kept shouting something at the thin man, a word or a name that Darcy couldn't quite place. Locked key? Low-key?

With a jolt, Darcy realized what he was saying. She found herself torn between performing a spit-take with her chai latte in surprise or banging her head on her keyboard in despair at her own denseness.

Loki. Duh.

Of course, that didn't explain why Loki was here, or why he was fighting Thor, or what the heck was happening. Breaking her own sanity-saving rule, Darcy scrolled down to the comments section to search for answers.

 

**mrscapamerica:** _thumbs up if you love cap!_

 

Darcy dutifully thumbs-upped the comment and scrolled on.

 

**nekoluvsarcher:** _whose the green dude?_

**iron-bro:** @nekoluvsarcher _that's the hulk_

**nekoluvsarcher:** @iron-bro _no i mean the horny helmet guy_

**hug4loki:** @nekoluvsarcher _The one with the horned helm is Loki, prince of Asgard._

**incomprehensiblenonword:** @hug4loki _First Thor now Loki. What next? Mohammed shows up and starts pushing the Rockies around?_

**nekoluvsarcher:** @hug4loki _why is he trying to kill the avengers?_

**hug4loki:** @nekoluvsarcher _Note how Loki is holding his blows. If he truly desired the deaths of Thor and his compatriots, would it not be simpler to shoot them with a lethal bolt of energy rather than flee the battlefield?_

**xXx_sonic_rulz_xXx:** @hug4loki _dude wtf ru talkin about loki is evul thru n thru_

**mrscapamerica:** @hug4loki _you must be trolling_

**hug4loki:** @mrscapamerica _I assure you, my comments are sincere._

**starknakedind:** @hug4loki _Or maybe he just sucks at fighting?_

**hug4loki:** @starknakedind _An inaccurate assessment of his abilities. He is a god; re-calibrate your statistics._

**iron-bro:** @hug4loki _ok so your theory is that loki is holding back. lets pretend thats not completely stupid for a moment and ask why would he do that?_

**hug4loki:** @iron-bro _I would think it is due to lingering affections for his brother._

**iron-bro:** @hug4loki _no homo_

**mjolnirsmight:** @hug4loki _fuck you faggot loki is fucking done the only reason thor didnt crush his fucking skull was cuz he ran away like a little bitch_

**hug4loki:** @mjolnirsmight _I don't believe you and I surveyed the same footage._

**mjolnirsmight:** @hug4loki _suck my dick_

 

The conversation degenerated from there. Darcy closed her laptop, downed the last of her drink, and whipped out her phone.

 

* * *

 

 

Jane Foster stood outside the Cahill Center for Astronomy and Astrophysics, taking in fresh air and sunshine before she had to go back in to stand before a hundred and fifty people and explain what she'd been doing with her life for the last three years. Or at least the version of it SHIELD would let her tell. For example, she wasn't supposed to let on that SHIELD had ever confiscated her equipment and research. She'd also been discouraged from telling her audience about her habit of making out with her primary piece of evidence.

A jaunty jingle from her phone interrupted her slightly bitter reminiscing. She pulled it out, glanced at the screen, frowned, and answered.

"Darcy?"

"Oh my god, Jane, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," said Jane. "I mean, I'm kind of nervous, but it's nothing I haven't already––"

"Nervous? That's it? Your boyfriend just got attacked by aliens and the freaking Hulk and the best you can muster up is 'nervous'!?"

Jane blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Are you near a computer? Also you should probably be sitting down."

"I am in the middle of the sidewalk at CalTech," said Jane, "and I want a straight answer. What's going on?"

"Dude, get to YouTube. Now. I am super serious. The internet is exploding and––"

Darcy's rambling was cut off by the alarmed shouts of everyone else on the sidewalk. Jane looked around, then looked up, as directed by a dozen pointing fingers. She squinted at the two red dots in the sky. They grew bigger as they got closer and took the shape of two men, one metallic, one blond and burly and trailing a scarlet cape behind him.

"Darcy, I'm gonna call you back, okay?" said Jane.

"But––!"

"Later!"

Jane hung up her phone as Thor landed on the sidewalk in front of her, cracking it. She found herself torn between delight that he wanted to come support her and annoyance at his entrance upstaging her. Yes, the presence of two superheroes would increase public interest in the conference, but she had a feeling there would be more press coverage devoted to Thor's outfit than to theoretical astrophysics.

Still: he was here to see her. Times were good. Or would be, if he'd smile already.

"Jane!" he said before she could get a word in. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she said, for the second time in as many minutes. "What's going on?"

"Your lab is trashed," said Iron Man as he finally came in for a landing after circling the area twice; possibly for surveillance purposes, more likely for the attention he was getting from the gathering crowd.

"What?" said Jane. "Are Erik and Bruce okay?"

"Erik was wounded, but SHIELD assures us he will recover," said Thor, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Bruce... suffered a brief resurgence of his affliction, but managed to regain control of himself. Eventually."

"He Hulked out, you mean," said Jane.

"You know of this?"

"SHIELD briefed us on that whole situation before he came to help us with our research," said Jane. "So that's what happened? Bruce had an accident and wrecked my lab?"

"Not precisely," said Thor.

Jane waited patiently for him to continue. She made it three whole seconds.

"Well?" she prompted.

"Thor's brother is a huge douche and wants the Cube," said Stark, retracting the faceplate on his helmet. "Speaking of which, the hell is up with that Cube?"

Jane ignored him and turned back to Thor, brow furrowed with concern.

"Your brother?" she asked, trying to make the question gentle in spite of her confusion. Last she'd heard, Thor's brother was dead. They'd talked about it, once; Thor apologized over and over for the harm that had come to Jane and Midgard, started to explain why his brother had done it, or what Thor thought his motivations were, then got too choked up to continue and begged Jane to change the subject. Jane was more than happy to oblige.

But the point was, Thor's brother was deceased. Which made this new development very confusing.

She also hoped Thor didn't know what "a huge douche" meant, though judging by the way he scowled at Stark, he'd probably guessed.

"Loki is alive," said Thor, and those three words looked like the hardest he'd ever had to say.

"He attacked your lab, set off the Hulk, stabbed Dr. Selvig, and almost made off with your Cube," said Stark. "But let's focus on the Cube here."

"Is it contained?" said Jane.

"Yes, but––"

"Then we're done focusing on it. When did this happen? Where's Loki now?"

"This morning," said Thor. "Where my brother is now, I know not. That is why I have come. I fear he may... I fear you might be his next target."

Jane raised her eyebrows.

"You did not know?" said Thor.

Jane shook her head. Thor scowled.

"I was informed by Director Fury that you had been told of this," he said. "And were under guard."

"Round things roll, hot things burn, Fury lies," said Stark. "Three laws of the universe for you, right there, no charge."

"I don't need a guard," said Jane.

"Too bad, you've got one," said Stark. "It's us. You're welcome."

Did he ever shut up? Jane turned to glare at him.

"Okay then," she said. "You stay outside, circle the area, give us a shout if Loki shows up. Thor will change into something stealthier and come inside with me."

"Since when do you call the shots?" said Stark.

"Since this is my talk, where I present my research that I've been working on for the last three years of my life, and you are my guards provided by my employer for my safety."

"Maybe I want to learn about your research, too," said Stark.

"Then you can read my abstract online like everyone else who wasn't invited to this conference," said Jane. "I only get one guest, and I'm taking my boyfriend, not his loudmouth coworker."

Stark shut his mouth and his helmet, taking off into the air again. Jane turned to Thor.

"...You didn't bring a change of clothes, did you," she said.

Thor looked sheepish. "Perhaps if I removed my cape and helm...?"

"And we borrowed a labcoat from the university... yeah, that might work," said Jane. She smiled up at him, and he returned it with relief. "You don't mind staying backstage, do you?"

"To guard your flank?" said Thor.

"...Right," said Jane.

"I would be proud to," said Thor.

Jane got on her tiptoes to give him a little kiss, then took him by the wrist to lead him back in the building.

Ten minutes later, with Thor stowed safely backstage to her right, Jane walked to the podium in front of a hundred and fifty physicists and other interested parties to begin her presentation. There had been no sign of Loki in the interim.

Jane almost wished the interdimensional a-hole would interrupt her presentation. She'd be more than happy to give him a piece of her mind.

 

* * *

 

At that moment, Loki was a little preoccupied.

Of course he knew where Dr. Foster was. Whether or not he particularly cared was another matter entirely. She was far away from the Puente Antiguo lab; that was all Loki had needed. Or should have needed.

Not that Dr. Foster herself was a threat––far from it. She was just another fragile mortal, easily crushed. However, Thor had grown attached to her, and hurting her would bring down wrath the likes of which Loki would rather not face.

Dr. Foster's absence from the lab should have distracted Thor and ensured he never show up to the scene. Furthermore, if SHIELD were possessed of the slightest bit of sense, they would have done everything in their power to keep their pet Aesir away from the tesseract. And yet, there he'd been, stupidly jumping into the fray as though he had any clue what was at stake, or whose side he was supposed to be on. It was dumb luck that he'd gone for the beast rather than Loki, otherwise...

Well, Loki didn't particularly want to ponder what would have happened otherwise. It would involve hammers and skulls, and he'd been down that road already and was disinclined to traverse it again, thank you very much.

He considered all this as he lurched around his makeshift lair, a foreclosed condominium in Florida. The heat didn't agree with him, but the mortals had evacuated the area for financial purposes, and the solitude suited him just fine.

Loki tore off another layer of armor, having already lost his bracers and boots; they littered the tile floor of the kitchen in which he now stood. The wounds underneath, largely superficial blunt trauma, were all bruising to an astonishing shade of purple. Damn the Hulk. It never should have been able to touch him.

He cursed himself as well, for failing to properly prepare himself for the fight against the creature. After all, what difference could one more Midgardian scientist make?

Loki had been running his hand through his hair as his mind raced. Now he clenched his fist in frustration, pulling a few strands out by their roots. Of course Loki had researched Dr. Banner; he wasn't an idiot, despite what his most recent efforts might suggest. The mortals considered Banner the highest threat they could possibly face, equaled only by Thor. Loki, knowing Thor to be an easily-manipulated buffoon, had assumed this meant Banner could likewise be bent to his will.

As it turned out, there was such a thing as "too stupid to outsmart."

The Hulk did not listen to reason, pleas, or threats. The Hulk simply smashed.

And thus, through his hubris, Loki had wasted nearly a year's worth of work, razed it to the ground just as he'd razed...

Before his thoughts could turn to his last unsuccessful power play, Loki forced his anger outwards, picking up the nearest object and hurling it at the wall in a desperate effort to distract himself. It worked; the object in question turned out to be a coffee mug, and shattered with a very satisfactory sound.

Less satisfactory was the accompanying stab of pain in his chest as the violent motion pulled at cracked ribs and torn muscle.

Loki staggered, leaning against the granite counter, panting shallow breaths so as not to aggravate his wounds further. Ten months spent recovering from his impact with Midgard's crust for this?

A tapping sound behind him interrupted his thoughts. Loki glanced over his shoulder, moving his head just enough to see behind him with his peripheral vision. This revealed a large, dark shape bobbing and weaving outside his kitchen window.

Considering how secluded his hideout was, and how, to his knowledge, no one had yet discovered its location, Loki felt completely vindicated in summoning a throwing dagger and tossing it at the window as he whirled around to face the source of the noise.

The dagger hit the window, cracking the glass and startling an enormous black bird that had been rapping its beak against the pane. The bird dropped from sight, leaving a few stray feathers and an echoing squawk in its wake.

Loki stood, arm still poised in midair post-throw, and stared at the window where there had been a bird and now there were no birds, save for the normal and unavoidable menace of pigeons. The apartment was once again a bird-free zone. Mission accomplished.

Still. Better safe than sorry.

He stepped quickly to the window and flattened himself against the wall beside it, all the while scolding himself for his paranoia. Ravens were uncommon in this area, yes, but not unheard of. And perhaps it wasn't a raven at all. It could easily be a crow, or a rook, or a melanistic seagull.

Whatever it was, it returned shortly and tapped on the window again.

"Odinson! I would have words with you!"

The glass muffled the proclamation, but the scraping sound of its voice remained unmistakable, like fingernails scrambling for purchase on a sheer cliff face. Definitely a raven. Loki cursed under his breath.

"Odinson!" the raven called again.

"I'm terribly sorry," said Loki, stepping away from the wall and back into the raven's field of vision, "but there's no one here by that name. You must be mistaken."

The expression on its face was difficult to read. Its tone, on the other hand, was obviously annoyed.

"Loki," it rasped, giving each syllable careful weight and pronunciation. Loki suppressed a shudder.

"I'd love to help, really I would," he said, keeping his voice light and casual as he summoned his spear to his hand and aimed it at the window, "but I'm afraid I have too much on my plate already."

The raven bolted from the window seconds before Loki's magical blast shattered it.

Satisfied he'd made himself clear, he turned his back to the broken glass and approached the refrigerator. Its stainless-steel surface was polished to a highly-reflective sheen. Loki began performing the sequence of intricate hand motions that would transform the pseudo-mirror into a portal to one of his other bases. He was halfway through the spellcasting when a dark shadow loomed in his reflection and a fluttering of feathers sounded in his ear. He turned just in time to see the raven land on his shoulder.

Loki flailed, pinwheeling his arms and flapping his hands to get the bird away. It cawed and flew off to perch on top of the refrigerator. Loki grabbed his spear again and pointed it at the raven.

"Give me one sound reason not to permanently remove you from this realm," he said.

The raven blinked down at him.

"Where did you get that?" it asked.

"Answer my riddle first," said Loki, "and perhaps I shall answer yours."

"The wrath of Asgard would fall on your head if you were to murder the Allfather's memory."

"Well met, Muninn," said Loki, keeping his spear trained on her.

"And your weapon?"

"From nowhere you've heard of."

"Try me."

"I think not," said Loki. "Now get out of my path."

"Aren't you curious why I've come?"

Loki scoffed. "Obviously to deliver a threat from Asgard, now that it's been discovered I yet live."

"We knew you were alive. It takes more than a fall to kill a son of Odin."

"And what does it take to kill a son of Laufey?"

Muninn ruffled her feathers.

"Sore subject, I see?" said Loki. "No matter. Come, what warning do you have for the monster Asgard nursed at its own breast?"

"You are no such thing," said Muninn.

"Explain your reasoning."

"You saved your brother's life."

Loki laughed.

"Saved him? I was aiming for him. Had I not been so sorely wounded, I would not have missed."

Muninn jerked her head up in astonishment. "You are wounded?"

"I was." Loki straightened his back and spread his arms wide, putting the glamour of repaired armor and skin on display for her and holding back a grimace of pain under his smooth smile. "Healed, now."

Avian faces being generally inscrutable, Loki couldn't tell if he'd convinced her. She cocked her head in a suspicious manner, but then ruffled her feathers in a way that seemed to be the raven equivalent of a shrug.

"I'm glad to hear that you are well," she said, "for I require your aid, and 'tis likely you will have to be at your best to give it."

Loki laughed again. "And what makes you think I will give it?"

"It would be in your best interest to do so."

"Oh, I highly doubt it," said Loki.

"My brother is missing," said Muninn.

Loki paused, mouth half-open for his planned retort. He shut it with a click. Muninn took advantage of his silence to speak on.

"Three days ago, we were in council with the Allfather when my brother––"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but did you just say that Huginn, the Allfather's very _thought_ , is missing?"

"Yes," said Muninn.

"Surely you can come up with a better lie to trap me with than that," said Loki.

"I speak true!" said Muninn.

"You crow nonsense," said Loki. "And I don't intend to waste another second listening to it." He approached the gleaming door of the fridge and began his transportation spellwork once more, performing the delicate hand motions with speed enough that he was finished by the time Muninn spoke again.

"The Allfather has banished Huginn!" she cried. "For speaking out in your defense!"

Loki glared up at her.

"Now I know you're lying," he said, and stepped through the door.

 

* * *

 

**from:** Darcy Lewis (poliscipod@starkmail.com)   
**to:** Jane Foster (jfoster@caltech.edu)   
**subject:** YOUR BOYFRIEND FOUGHT A MONSTER YOU SHOULD CHECK HIM FOR SEXY BRUISES

 

_no but for reals here is the video i was TRYING to tell you about before i was so RUDELY cut off https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7MWYqicC0_

_send me a text or something when you get this we have MUCH TO DISCUSS_

_like for example WHAT THE FUCK_

_and WHAT IS THIS EVEN_

_and I CANNOT_

_ <3 darcy_

 

* * *

 

_New Wewelsburg Forums > Mythology > Loki?_

**blitzkreig** posted on Aug 06 2011, 06:29 PM

_has anybody thought about how loki might be real too?_

**frontofthestorm** posted on Aug 07 2011, 02:13 AM

_I've given a lot of thought to the ramifications of Loki's potential existence, but until we have further proof everything is speculation._

**mjolnirsmight** posted on Aug 07 2011, 10:04 AM

_if hes real he wont be for long cuz thors gonna smash his face in_

**lightningSS** posted on Apr 05 2012, 02:14 PM

_https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7MWYqicC0_   
_proof_

**mjolnirsmight** posted on Apr 05 2012, 02:15 PM

_wtf loki is a total fag look at him running away thor should have hammered him!!_

**blitzkreig** posted on Apr 05 2012, 02:16 PM

_thought he was supposed to be a redhead?_

**frontofthestorm** posted on Apr 05 2012, 02:35 PM

_According to traditional Nordic mythology, yes, Loki is typically characterized as red-haired. However, it would seem that the myths are not as accurate as previously thought. Thor certainly seems to recognize him, and for now that will have to suffice as proof that this is, indeed, Loki._

_While we're on the subject, we should consider what place Loki may have in our own plans, and his role in the formation of our world. Obviously, Thor is the ideal man, what we should all aspire to be, and if we cannot be it, what we should aspire to guide the human race into becoming. Assuming Loki to be Thor's opposite (which would not be a completely unsupported hypothesis, considering their behavior towards each other in the above video), we can conclude that Loki is the living incarnation of everything wrong with humanity._

_Observe his effeminate nature (as mjolnirsmight made reference to). He does not run towards the glory of battle, but evades it like a coward or woman. This behavior would lend credence to the belief that he is the Loki of legend. In mythology, Loki frequently and fragrantly defied natural sex roles, most notably when he turned himself into a mare and engaged in sexual congress with the stallion Svaldifari. This act resulted in the birth of Sleipnir. In another instance, Loki went so far as to descend to earth as a milkmaid and bear the children of a mortal man._

_Consider also Loki's numerous kennings, among them Silvertongue, Liesmith, Scarlip, Skywalker, and perhaps most significant of all, the Mother of Monsters. Mythologically speaking, the title Mother of Monsters refers not only to his refusal to behave in a manner appropriate to his sex but also to his begetting of Sleipnir, Jormungandr, Hel, Fenrir, Nari, and Vali. However, this title may have implications for the human world as well._

_It is obvious that the lesser races of men are not made in the image of gods such as Thor and Odin. Given Loki's proclivities towards mothering monsters, is it so much of a stretch to assume he mothered the Jewish race as well? (For those who doubt, review the available footage and examine his features. Surely that is no Aryan profile.)_

_At any rate, he has proven himself to be an enemy of Thor, and must therefore be taken down._

**blitzkreig** posted on Apr 05 2012, 02:38 PM

_tl;dr_

**johnsmith** posted on Apr 05 2012, 2:43 PM

_You are quite right, frontofthestorm. However, Loki remains a god, and currently we lack the ability to challenge him directly. Rest assured, he will not get away with this insult._

**mjolnirsmight** posted on Apr 05 2012, 2:51 PM

_ok as long as were picking out targets i vote we put a big fuckin bullseye on this hug4loki asshole. fuckin homo got issues._

**johnsmith** posted on Apr 05 2012, 2:53 PM

_Funny you should mention him. I don't think he'll be bothering us again anytime soon._


	6. Chapter 6

Out of all the prisons he had found himself in over the last five years or so, Bruce had to admit SHIELD's holding cells were the nicest: very clean, with actual plumbing and a real pillow on the cot. They'd even given him a t-shirt and sweatpants to replace the clothes the other guy had shredded. The walls of the cell were transparent and at least half a dozen heavily-armed SHIELD agents circled the cell at any given moment, but no one was staring at him like an animal in a zoo or shouting in his face. If Bruce had to choose, he supposed he preferred being ignored to being interrogated, though an interrogation would be a welcome distraction from the abusive scolding his own conscience was giving him at that moment.

He sat on the edge of the cot, picking at a loose thread on the blanket and staring off into the distance as the same few thoughts ran laps in his brain. How many buildings had he destroyed this time? How many civilians had he hurt, or worse? How could he have let himself lose control like that, knowing just how much was at stake?

"You have a visitor."

Bruce jumped off the cot into a standing position, startled out of his downward spiral. At the door to his cell stood Iron Man. The suit's faceplate was retracted, leaving a grinning Tony Stark in its place.

"Hey," said Stark.

"Hey," Bruce echoed absentmindedly.

"You guys mind giving us a little privacy?" Stark said over his shoulder to the two armed guards standing behind him. Neither one responded. Stark shrugged and stepped into the cell.

"How's it going?" he said, to Bruce, as though Bruce wasn't currently held prisoner by his own government after unleashing an unstoppable monster on an unsuspecting populace.

"It's going," said Bruce. Which was true. It hadn't stopped yet. Whatever "it" was.

"Tony Stark, by the way," said Stark, gesturing offhandedly to himself as he took a walk around the cell, not even looking at Bruce. He seemed to be examining the walls. "But you probably already guessed that."

"Yeah," said Bruce, unthinking, and then added, "Bruce Banner."

"I know," said Stark, now craning his head back to get a good look at the ceiling. "Did I design this? I think I designed this. JARVIS, is this a Stark Industries product?"

Bruce couldn't hear JARVIS's response, but judging from Stark's smile and nod, it was in the positive.

"Called it," said Stark. "It's an oldie, though. Could stand a few upgrades."

"Is that what you're here for?" said Bruce.

Stark looked at Bruce as though he'd only just remembered he was in the room.

"No, actually," said Stark. "I have a few questions for you."

"Let me guess," said Bruce, his shoulders sagging. "They're about the Other Guy."

"Nope," said Stark. "They're about the Cube."

Bruce perked up.

"That's what you were here to work on, right?" said Stark. "Assisting Dr. Foster and Dr. Selvig."

"Where's Erik?" said Bruce.

"Selvig? He's fine, he's in medical, they've got him on all the good drugs, don't worry about it."

Bruce found himself worrying about it anyway, but Stark had a way of talking that made it difficult to focus on anything other than the endless stream of words coming out of his mouth.

"Back to the Cube," Stark continued. "I picked it up today, with this––" He held up one of his armored hands, and Bruce flinched. Stark didn't seem to notice. "––and it burned through it. This is a replacement glove, obviously, I've got spares, but point is these are specifically designed so stuff like that can't happen. So this Cube thing is already setting off alarms for me, and then I try to look at it through the HUD––" He tapped his helmet. "––and it crashed. The HUD shouldn't crash. I wrote that code. My codes don't crash. So something is seriously weird about this Cube deal, and Dr. Foster was very rude when I asked her about it, and Dr. Selvig's answers, while funny, are pretty useless thanks to all the previously-mentioned drugs they've got him on, or heck, maybe it's not the drugs, maybe his answers were completely serious and only sounded like nonsense because nothing about this Cube makes any kind of sense whatsoever. Point is, I'd like a straight answer or several on the topic and you––" He pointed at Bruce, who flinched again. "––seem to be the only guy who can give 'em to me."

Bruce waited a half-second to see if Stark was actually done rambling before he spoke.

"So you're here to make me talk, then."

"Nah, I was thinking I'd invite you out for coffee and donuts and we could have a chat in a place that doesn't look like a re-education facility. Speaking of, JARVIS, remind me to put up some kitten posters or something in the redesign."

"...I'm allowed to leave?" said Bruce.

"I don't see why not," said Stark. "I mean, I haven't checked, but no one bothered to stop me on my way down here and if anybody makes a fuss about it after the fact just tell 'em I made you do it."

"Okay," said Bruce, because what else could he say? Coffee and donuts sounded nice. Better than sitting in a cell, anyway. Plus, Stark was an Avenger, he had clearance. Right?

"Great," said Stark, and turned to go.

Meanwhile, the guards at the door had brought their guns out of their holsters and were muttering furiously into their headsets. Stark walked up to them.

"Hey guys," he said. "We're going on a coffee run. Want anything?"

"Dr. Banner is not authorized to leave the––"

"Yeah, that's nice. I'm guessing Fury's shouting in your ear right now. Tell him that if his own experts' theories and calculations are correct, it'll be at least another twelve hours before Bruce's adrenal gland recovers enough to activate the Hulk state. And if he's worried about Loki coming down while Bruce is off-campus, I'd like to point out that I left Thor in Dr. Selvig's hospital room. Thor has a big hammer. It hits real good. Maybe you've heard of it. Loki sure has."

The agents paused, hands over their communicators, listening.

"Well?" said Stark.

"He heard you," said the agent on the left.

"I know," said Stark. "I'm the one who put audio surveillance equipment in the blueprints for this place. So...?"

The agent on the right scowled as he took his hand away from his ear. "Go on through."

Stark waved his thanks as he led Bruce out of the compound.

"I probably don't know as much as you think I do," said Bruce once they'd arrived at the nearly-abandoned hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, after a quick stop for Stark to get out of his suit so he could drive his Audi without completely destroying the suspension. "I mean, all I did was measure and record the gamma radiation output. I'm really just a glorified lab assistant."

"You interpreted that data, though, right?" said Stark, taking a noisy slurp from his black coffee.

"Well, kind of." Bruce looked down at his own little paper cup of green tea. He'd have preferred chamomile, but he supposed he was lucky the shop had anything decaffeinated.

Stark waved his hand in a get-on-with-it gesture.

"There wasn't much worth interpreting," said Bruce. "Radiation readings were all over the map. Nothing the instruments were telling us made any sense."

"I'm picking up on a pattern here..." Stark muttered into his coffee. To Bruce, he said, "Continue."

"I spent most of my time re-calibrating lab equipment. We replaced everything in the lab at least twice, trying to figure out what was making the readings so... well, unreal."

"And your conclusion...?"

"The experiment's not done yet."

Stark sighed. "Your hypothesis, then."

"My hypothesis is that I've been out of the lab for so long that I don't know how to do labwork anymore. That, or the Other Guy gives off radiation through me even when he's not around and it's messing with the equipment. Either way, if the experiment fails, it's probably my fault."

Bruce briefly wondered if Stark had slipped some kind of truth serum into his tea. That, or stress had worn down all of Bruce's conversation filters. It'd been a hell of a day, after all.

For once, Stark didn't have anything to say in response. Instead, he gave Bruce a look that Bruce didn't quite know how to interpret. The silence stretched on for three whole seconds––a new record for this conversation––before Bruce broke it.

"Jane's got a different idea," he said.

Stark pursed his lips and looked down into his coffee in a way that plainly said he was trying to hide his interest.

"She thinks..." Bruce felt like an idiot saying it, but what the hell, Stark hadn't stopped listening to him yet. And besides, Jane's hypothesis fit with their data. It wasn't her fault the data was gibberish. "She thinks the Cube can alter reality."

Stark jerked his head up. Bruce swallowed, but managed to hold back a flinch for the first time that day. That was good; it meant some of his control was coming back. Now all he had to do was keep it up until Stark put him back in the Hulk-tank and he'd prove to SHIELD that he was a good little monster who could be trusted.

"Strange," said Stark. "She seemed so grounded."

Bruce bristled.

"She's brilliant," he said. Snapped, more like.

"You do realize you're competing with the god of thunder, right?" said Stark.

"What?" said Bruce. "No, no, it's not like that. I mean she's legitimately brilliant. Well, of course she is, she's got a doctorate in theoretical astrophysics, they don't just hand those out––"

"I dunno," said Stark. "I ended up with a doctorate in mechanical engineering that I can't remember working for."

"––point is, she's smart, she's done her research, she's shown her work, and I believe her when she tells me this thing breaks the fabric of time and space."

Bruce could hear that his voice had taken on a weird tone. He'd lost control of the volume somewhere along the line and every word had a kind of inhuman cadence, like something trying to pass for a person, seconds away from giving up and tearing off the mask.

Stark blinked at him before draining his coffee.

"All right then," he said after he'd swallowed the last of the brew. "Cosmic Cube. Eats spacetime. Got it."

Bruce slowly, forcibly relaxed his muscles, starting with his clenched hands and ending with his hunched shoulders.

"Good," he said. He even managed a smile.

 

* * *

 

Thor had understood less than half of what Jane said in her presentation, but her audience certainly seemed to think it clever. A small crowd of admirers formed around her after her presentation ended; Thor politely but firmly broke them up, apologizing to Jane and explaining that he had, after all, promised to bring her back with him to SHIELD, and Fury was undoubtedly expecting haste. Jane grabbed his waist and they flew back to the Puente Antiguo base together, with the Man of Iron shadowing them the entire way. He even followed them into Erik's recovery room, where the latter was enjoying the aftereffects of the many narcotics he'd been given. (Thor was relieved to find that SHIELD's reassurances were true and that Erik's wounds were minor. He feared for his fragile mortal friends.) Stark only departed after an aborted attempted to interrogate Erik on the subject of the cube; Jane all but chased him out, furious at Stark's timing and lack of tact. Thor didn't even have to reach for Mjolnir before Stark beat a hasty retreat.

Jane and Thor stayed by Erik's side longer, nearly until nightfall, but even they were ushered off by medical staff who insisted upon Erik's need for rest. Jane headed for the ruins of her lab, wishing to see the destruction for herself. She declined Thor's offer to accompany her. Thor found himself ambling around the compound, bereft of purpose and with only his increasingly dark thoughts for company.

He feared for Jane's safety, even though she was in the middle of SHIELD territory, surrounded by agents and heroes on high alert. He feared for Erik, though Erik himself was cheerful and expected to make a full and speedy recovery. He feared for Darcy and for his fellow Avengers and for his Aesir friends... and he feared for his brother. Thor wasn't yet used to feeling so helpless. He found he misliked it.

His wandering boots led him back to the on-base living quarters, which remained largely undamaged by the attack. It was here that both the Avengers and the Aesir would be staying until Loki was caught. A brief conversation with a passing agent revealed that Stark had absconded with Dr. Banner, the Captain was leading a team of agents to retrieve Darcy from her university's campus and put her under protective custody, and the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three were making use of the base's indoor training grounds. Thor made for the gym. He arrived in time to see Sif deliver a roundhouse kick to a suspended sandbag, which burst from the impact. Hogun, standing nearby to critique her form, nodded to Thor as he entered the room.

"These bags were made for mortal strength," Volstagg said from his position on a bench against the wall.

"That would explain why you have yet to defeat a single one," said Fandral, who stood in the center of the gym, balancing the pommel of his sword on the tip of his index finger. It wobbled significantly. When it seemed about to fall, he flipped it into the air and caught it by the handle with a bit more flourish than was necessary.

"I am merely taking our hosts' pride into consideration," said Volstagg, paying little heed to Fandral's theatrics. "It wouldn't do to upstage and upset them."

"How fares the Lady Jane?" said Hogun, looking to Thor.

"She is in fine spirits," said Thor, taking a seat on the bench beside Volstagg. "Her research was well-received by her colleagues."

"Good," said Sif, stringing up another bag. Thor looked at the mangled remains of its predecessors and concluded that this was at least her fourth opponent.

"We have not yet discussed where we should search for Muninn next," said Hogun.

Thor had opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a voice like the screech of blades on chainmail.

"Have you tried looking up?" it said, echoing throughout the gymnasium.

Thor and the rest of the Aesir did so. The source of the voice was not apparent until a single black feather floated down from the rafters. Seconds later, a plump raven had landed on the bench beside Volstagg, who jumped up in surprise a half-second too late.

"Muninn!" he cried. The raven blinked at him as the remaining Aesir gathered around her.

"It would seem our quest is at an end," said Hogun.

"Where have you been?" Sif demanded of the raven.

"How did you find us?" said Volstagg.

"Are you ready to return to Asgard?" asked Fandral.

"I must speak with the Odinson," said Muninn.

Sif and the Warrior's Three turned to Thor.

"What news do you have for me?" said Thor when a tense silence had passed.

Muninn looked to each of the other Aesir in turn, then back to Thor.

"Whatever you have to say to me, you may say to my friends," said Thor.

Muninn ruffled her feathers, then smoothed them back down with her beak.

"Very well," she said. "I require your aid."

"You shall have it," Thor replied automatically. Muninn cocked her head to one side.

"Don't you want to hear what sort of aid I require?" she said.

"I've no doubt it is a noble quest," said Thor, "and one I would be glad to undertake."

Muninn nodded.

"I came to Midgard in search of my brother, Huginn," she went on. "He has been cast out of Asgard and bound in mortal form. I fear for him, and wish to bring him home."

"He is banished?" said Thor. "But why?"

"Will you help me search for him or no?" said Muninn, ignoring his question.

"Aye, I shall," said Thor. "You already have my word on that."

"If he is bound in the form of a mortal raven," said Hogun, his interruption quiet but nonetheless demanding attention, "then how do we begin to search for him? What is left to distinguish him from any other mortal bird?"

"You misunderstand me," said Muninn. "He is not in the form of a mortal raven, but a mortal man. Black of hair, with gangly limbs and a large, bent nose."

"Oh!" said Volstagg. "That's much better!"

Muninn whipped her head around to glower at him.

"It would be far less cruel to have rendered him mute and simple," she all-but-spat, "than to have him remain intelligent enough to understand what he has lost."

"What loss?" said Fandral. "Cut off from Asgard, yes, but in the form of a mortal man he has the means to seek a way to return. What hope would he possibly have as a mortal bird?"

Muninn's feathers ruffled again.

"You," she intoned gravely, "who have never soared the skies between worlds, cannot imagine what it is to be deprived of flight."

Volstagg looked down at his hands, wiggled his thumbs, and seemed about to make some other comment. Sif wisely cut him off.

"Since Thor has agreed find your brother," she said, "will you return with us to Asgard, so that our quest may be at an end?"

Muninn looked to her, then Thor, then back to Sif.

"Yes," she croaked at last.

Sif nodded, satisfied, then turned to Thor.

"We will call for Heimdall at dawn," she told him. "I wish you the best of luck on your quest."

Thor nodded his thanks.

"But why would the Allfather banish Huginn?" said Volstagg.

Thor shot Volstagg a warning look, suspecting the raven's patience had worn thin and she would have to be prevented from pecking his comrade's eyes, but Muninn merely blinked at him, and her voice as she replied was level.

"For speaking out in defense of Loki." 

 

* * *

 

The Jotunheim of old was the crumbling shadow of a once-great realm, full of crags and cracked cathedrals, ice sculptures half-formed and broken, spreading on in seeming perpetuity.

Jotunheim of late was a small, featureless plain of hard-packed snow and shrieking winds, flattened by the destructive pressures of a wide-open Bifröst and surrounded on all sides by star-speckled void.

In this desolate landscape, Loki stood, surveying what he had wrought.

The cold didn't bother him, hadn't bothered him since the revelation of his true ancestry. But the howling wind in his ears grated on his patience, so much so that he felt a flash of relief when another sound overrode it; a voice, low and grumbling. His relief vanished as he recognized the word the voice spoke.

"Oathbreaker."

Loki spun around, scanning the landscape for the speaker. But there was no one for him to see. The wind picked up again, and Loki despaired of hearing anything else, until–

"Trickster."

"Deceiver."

Two voices. Loki resisted the urge to spin again, planting his feet instead. "Show yourself!"

He regretted his command as towering figures, long-limbed and blue-skinned, red eyes narrowed with hate, emerged from the blizzard less than a hundred yards from him. Despite the distance, their voices rang out as clearly as if they were by his side.

"Lie-smith."

"Traitor."

Not just two, but three, four, seven... A horde of frost giants. Loki considered running, but they filled the horizon on all sides, surrounding him and stepping closer with every word. They did not rush at him; they were in no hurry. They knew as surely as he did that his escape was impossible. The crackle and clatter of ice-weapons being formed joined the howl of the wind and the growl of their accusations.

"Monster."

"Kinslayer."

The cold. He felt it again, stronger than he'd ever felt it as an Aesir. It tore through his armor and skin, striking the very heart of him and freezing him to his core, shocked nerves burning in the aftermath. He gasped for breath, hands clutching at his chest as he fell to his knees. Long shadows fell over him, and he looked up into the blood-red eyes of Laufey.

"Nithing."

Loki woke up, heart pounding, veins thrumming with adrenaline, body tangled in sweat-soaked sheets. It took him a long moment, far too long, to remember where he was: his underground base, New York City, Midgard, a world away from Jotunheim and far beyond the reach of any vengeful frost giant, living or dead.

Still, it was many moments more before he convinced himself it was safe to move. He spent those moments barely breathing, staring wide-eyed into the darkness and listening for any sound in the apartment, apart from himself. For one terrible second he thought he heard the creeping of growing ice, but it was only in his mind; the memory of a nightmare.

Sleep was beyond him, and the night would be wasted lying here in the dark. He told himself this, and yet he found himself paralyzed, his mind continually turning back on itself.

He'd opened the Bifröst and turned it on Jotunheim without thought or care for the thousands of lives he planned to snuff out like so many candles.

But since when had anyone cared for frost giants? Since when had anyone told him they were anything but slavering monsters thirsting for Aesir blood?

Since when did he identify as one?

At last, Loki found the will to move. He sat up, curling his knees nearly to his chest and pressed his knuckles into his forehead, hard enough to leave dents in his skin. His arms trembled as he inhaled through his teeth and tried to get his panicky breaths under control. He couldn't think like this. It was unproductive. Off-topic.

He'd tried to kill his own kind, tried to be as ruthless as Thor and they'd torn him down for it.

Stop.

Tried to be as glorious as Odin, with less than half the Aesir casualties.

Stop it.

Tried to prove himself worthy, tried to kill every last Frost Giant, and failing that, threw the smallest one off the Bifröst.

Loki gave up and let his face fall into his open palms.

Some minutes or hours later, he wasn't quite sure, Loki lifted his head, tossed the sheets aside, and reached under his bed to retrieve a small laptop. He'd swallow his own spear before he praised Midgardian technology aloud, but their internet remained the fastest and easiest way to send and retrieve information on this world. Unable to sleep, he would spend his time planning his next move. And if he were to reconstruct his plan from the ground up, he needed all the data he could get.

To his great surprise, when he logged into the false academic email address he'd set up for his Leik Gedreynir identity, there was a message waiting for him.

 **to:** l.gedreynir@astro.uio.no  
 **from:** admin@newwewelsburg.net  
 **subject:** a business proposition

_Dr. Gedreynir,_

_Your doctoral thesis is a fascinating read. I would like to discuss it with you further. Would it be possible for us to meet in person?_

_Thank you for your time,_

_John Smith_

Loki frowned at the unusual missive. His first instinct was to ignore it––the email's body was so vague, the sender's name so generic, it reeked of time-wasting nonsense at best and outright treachery at worst.

However.

While Loki might be rightfully suspicious, the carefully-crafted identity of Leik Gedreynir was that of a gullible individual desperate for the approval of his peers and eager to form bonds of trust with anyone who'd stand still long enough. In short, friendly to a fault.

With this in mind, Loki composed his reply.

 

* * *

 

Thor's heart leapt with unexpected joy at Muninn's words, but it was short-lived.

"Loki is a traitor to his friends, his family, and all of Asgard," said Sif. "What could possibly be said in his defense?"

Thor clenched his jaw even as he unclenched his fists. This was not the time or place for a fight with his friends, not if he wanted to hear what his father's raven had to say on the matter.

Muninn coolly held Sif's gaze.

"Put yourself in Loki's place, for a moment," said the raven. "Recall the day of Thor's coronation. Thor, who rashly disobeyed the express command of his father and king, went to Jotunheim, slaughtered its citizens, and nearly started a war in the process, is banished. The stress from this causes the Allfather to collapse. The throne is now Loki's burden to bear, a turn of events even the sharpest of minds could not have foreseen. His brother's friends approach him, asking him to go against the wishes of his incapacitated father and return his dangerous brother to a position where he could, once again, bring ruin to Asgard. What could he do but refuse?"

Shame burned Thor's cheeks and bowed his head as he recalled his actions on that day. It served as a reminder to keep his temper now, even in the face of his friends' disagreement.

"If he truly loved Thor, he would have brought him back!" said Sif.

Thor had to admit to thinking the same thing from time to time, but Muninn's answer was quick.

"A king must balance his personal wants with the needs of the realm," said Muninn. "Are you suggesting he should have thrown Asgard's fate to the winds and brought Thor back, consequences be damned?"

Volstagg shuffled his feet and coughed. Fandral suddenly found great interest in the ceiling. Sif crossed her arms. Hogun alone remained stoic.

"As I was saying," Muninn continued. "You confronted Loki, and were rebuffed, for a number of very good reasons. Still, you defied his decision and went to Midgard yourselves."

"Where Loki tried to murder Thor with the Destroyer," said Hogun.

"Where Loki tried to keep Asgard safe from one who had proven himself a danger to it and all its inhabitants," said Muninn.

"If I may butt in," said Fandral, flourishing his hands as though he were brushing aside a curtain to enter the conversation. "It would seem as though you don't like Thor at all."

"On the contrary," said Muninn, turning towards Thor even as she spoke as though he weren't there. "I find myself quite fond of him. I wouldn't be bothering with this exercise if I weren't."

Thor chanced a small smile at the bird. It went unreturned.

"Of course," said Fandral with his most charming and sarcastic smirk. "So your endless list of criticisms is out of affection?"

"My endless list of criticisms, as you put it, is a series of impartial observations. If you doubt this, let me also note that I have an equally lengthy list for Loki."

"And when do we get to hear that list?" said Fandral.

Muninn stared at him for a long moment, unblinking, before she spoke again

"He endangered Aesir lives by tricking the Frost Giants into entering Asgard. He lied to Thor, telling him his father was dead and his mother wanted him exiled; to Asgard as a whole, letting everyone believe he had no idea how the Frost Giants had gained access to the weapons vault. And yes, he attacked you all with the Destroyer. Furthermore, he made a second attempt on Thor's life on the Bifröst, while simultaneously committing genocide against Jotunheim."

The listing of Loki's crimes did not sit well on Thor's conscience.

"And after all that, you expect us to forgive him?" said Hogun.

"Loki is no innocent," said Muninn. "Yet I urge you to understand that his actions were not out of malice, nor were they without cause, considering the circumstances."

"If you love Loki so," said Sif, "why not go to him for help instead of arguing in circles with us?"

Muninn ruffled her feathers and briefly ducked her head under her wing before she answered.

"I did," she admitted at last. "He was... somewhat less than cooperative."

"You have spoken with Loki?" said Thor, all but lunging towards the raven. "You know where he is?"

"I know where he was," said Muninn. "Since then, he has doubtless fled to new horizons."

Thor's shoulders slumped.

"Then he is a coward as well as a traitor," said Sif.

Muninn gave her a hard sideways glare.

"If empathy will not move you," she said, "then consider reason. Asgard cannot afford to have Loki as an enemy."

All the Aesir were silent for a moment.

"Shall we befriend all who threaten us, then?" said Hogun quietly.

"All those who were formerly our dear friends and family, yes," said Muninn. She turned to Thor again. "What say you, Odinson? What would you have done with your brother?"

Sif and the Warriors Three likewise faced Thor.

What would Thor have done with his brother? He would have him found. He would have him brought home and kept safe. He would have him here, standing before him, so Thor could explain what little he knew and apologize, again, for wrongs committed.

However, Thor could hardly admit all this in front of his Aesir friends. Instead, he swallowed, opened his mouth, paused, and, finally, found words.

"I know not," he said.

The raven's beak could neither smile nor frown, yet Thor thought he detected a hint of disappointment in the way she clicked it.

"When you were banished," she said, "how quickly did you meet new allies?"

"My lady Jane intercepted me with her vehicle as soon as I landed," said Thor.

"And how soon after your banishment did your old friends come to your aid?"

"It was some time before we were able to reach him," Fandral cut in, "but we were trying from the start."

Muninn nodded and addressed Thor again.

"And if you were to be cast out of Asgard again, how many people could you call on to help you?"

Thor frowned, growing uncomfortable with this line of questioning. "My friends and allies are great in number."

"When your brother was in need of help, how many people could he count on?"

"Our mother–-"

"-–was preoccupied with the state of your father."

Thor grit his teeth. "Heimdall," he said.

"Heimdall was your ally, and presumed Loki to be an enemy of the state," said Muninn.

"Lady Sif and the Warriors Three."

"Are your friends, and not Loki's, as they quickly proved."

Thor lapsed into thoughtful silence.

"Me," he said at last.

"And if he suspected, based on the evidence available to him, that you were set against him?"

This time Thor's silence was not a thoughtful one. He knew the answer full well, but didn't relish the thought of giving voice to it.

"No one," he said with a sigh.

"So it is Loki standing alone against the threat of Jotunheim, working to save Asgard even as Asgard works to depose him," said Muninn. "Small wonder he could not endure. Even the mightiest of warriors would crack under such weight." She looked away from Thor, to each of the Aesir in turn. "This is what my brother told the Allfather. And that is why he has been banished."

"And that is why you went to Loki before you went to Thor," Hogun finished for her.

Rather than respond to his observation, Muninn turned back to Thor.

"If your brother were sorry," she asked, "well and truly sorry––would you forgive him?"

It was the easiest question she'd put to him yet.

"Yes," said Thor.

He did not look to the other Aesir to see what they thought of this. He could not bear to see their faces, to have his fears of their disapproval confirmed. Muninn, at least, seemed pleased.

"Then search for my brother," she said, "and be ready to confront yours."

Thor nodded.

"I shall," he said, then he drew himself up to his full height, head held high as he addressed his comrades. "When you return to Asgard, I ask that you speak of none of this to my father."

"Of course," said Fandral. The others nodded, Volstagg first, Sif last.

Thor withheld a sigh of relief, bid them all good night, and left the gym, no less deep in thought than when he'd entered.


End file.
